And You Let Her Go
by BRNZ
Summary: An alternate take on the ending of S3 where Vic doesn't agree to stay on when asked, and in fact leaves for Philly not long after all hell breaks loose. Shortly after she collapses with a brain bleed (due to her two TBI) and has surgery. Except the Vic that wakes up isn't the same woman she was before...but things in Wyoming have also changed. Rated T for language
1. Chapter 1

VIC

She heaved her carryon bag behind her, wheels rattling over the tiled floor. It had got much heavier since she had packed and carried it on the flight, and she couldn't quite figure out how. Why? Well the why was obviously, neither she or it wanted to be here in Wyoming, especially in the middle of a January snowstorm.

Regretting not bringing her heavy winter coat, she stopped at the full length glass windows, peering out into the swirling snowflakes for the familiar shape of her expected ride, tugging on a woollen cap and sliding hands into the ski gloves she had prudently tucked in the front pocket of her bag.

Henry said he would be here to collect her, so she waited out of the weather, eyes scanning the carpark for his tall loping stride. And continued to wait until only a few vehicles remained in the carpark, including a large fancy black truck that looked vaguely familiar. The driver door opened and a tall jean clad hatted and jacketed figure strode in her direction and Vic's breath caught in her chest. The voice inside her head started up again _Oh Jesus fucking hell, what the fuck is HE doing here?_

Walt paused inside the terminal entrance, stomping snow off his boots, and shaking it off his hat before walking over to her. He stopped and gave her a long look before leaning to pick up the carryon, snapping the drag handle back down and turning towards the doorway.

She reached out a hand _don't fucking touch him you silly bitch_ but instead snapped "What the fuck? Henry was supposed to come pick me up." His shoulders stiffened for a moment and he turned half around and said quietly "Henry's grandmother in Denver had a fall yesterday, he had to go down to take care of her. Probably won't be back for a while given the weather so he asked me to look after you". There was nothing in his tone to give away how he felt about that, or the fact he hadn't been involved with her travel plans. Or the fact they hadn't spoken at all since she had left so dramatically so many months ago.

Vic sighed and then remembered something "I can't stay with you, you don't have a spare room?" _goddamn martyr sleeping on the couch again no doubt_ Walt smiled a half smile "Well I upgraded recently" and he carried on walking out to the big black truck. With her luggage in his hands, she had no other choice but to follow, and with the weather deteriorating, she didn't have any other way to get into town. She still wasn't cleared to drive and no taxi was going to chance the roads in their current state.

Walt didn't talk much, his concentration was needed for driving as visibility was terrible. He passed on some welcomes from the team, to a surly "Thanks" and she sat slumped in the passenger seat, arms crossed with a heavy frown on her face. Eventually she stirred enough to realise that she didn't recognise where they were, as the road zig zagged up to the top of a ridge, travelling along and around and pulling into a circular driveway in front of a huge mansion. Instead of stopping, Walt turned to the left and followed another road along past the mansion, driving for a couple of minutes before pulling into the cover of a carport and turning off the engine.

Annoyed at having to ask, her tone was short "Where the fuck are we?" Walt unsnapped his seatbelt and turned to face her "I'm house sitting for Omar, this is his hunting lodge for paying guests, where I am staying. Enough room for both of us." She was really annoyed now "Walt why didn't you just take me to my place in town?" _no way she wanted to be under the same roof as him_

His voice got all quiet and serious "Vic your mother updated Henry on your condition, you aren't cleared for driving, and can't risk being left alone until your neurosurgeon gives the all clear. I am sorry you are stuck with me and not Henry, but that's the deal" _fuck him, fuck Henry and fuck her mother for opening her busy mouth_ "But you won't be here anyway, you will be out being fucking Sheriff Hero as usual."

There was a long pause as they sat there in the truck cab, windows slowly steaming up now the heater was off as Walt took his time replying "I'm not Sheriff at the moment, I'm on sabbatical." She snorted "Not Sheriff, I thought you would have to die for that to happen" and as his eyes darkened she immediately regretted saying that, but lifted her chin in defiance. He chewed on his lower lip, the way he did when he was thinking hard and then nodded firmly once "Well a lot of things have changed since you left Vic." He got out of the cab, hauled the suitcase out of the backseat and stomped his boots on the bristly doormat before pushing the heavy wood and glass door open and heading inside. Left with nowhere else to go, she unclipped her seat belt and reluctantly followed him inside.

* * *

 **This is an alternate ending where Vic has suffered a TBI - Traumatic Brain Injury and was in a medical coma for some time. She is living with her mother in Philly and things are not going well due to the radical personality change Vic has undergone since the surgery. When she left Wyoming, it was not in the best circumstances, and neither she or Walt have spoken since she left. The neurosurgeon recommended a change of scenery to aid in her recovery, and so her mother enlisted Henry's aid in organising a trip back. Plus she needed to decide if she was going to come back, or discover if there was even a job to come back to.**

 **Except things in Wyoming appear to be quite different from when she left...**

 _Authors Note: I wanted to write a non HEA version of their story, something darker and more tangled and gritty. The TBI parts are based on personal experience - I had a horse riding accident and had brain surgery myself some 30 years ago. Pls be patient as Im working full time and studying for an exam in 6 weeks so updates will be slow but they will come, promise!_

 _Song Inspiration is Let Her Go by Passenger (tho I prefer the Within Temptation version)_


	2. Chapter 2

The warmth inside the building was noticeable even inside the foyer. There was a large glass and wooden door ahead of her, a hallway running to her left and right. Shrugging, she shut the outside door, stomped the snow off her boots and headed though the glass door. A couple of steps in she stopped and simply stared _the place was fucking incredible._ It looked like a movie set in Hollywood, oregon beams and planks in the walls, stained and glossy. Full length glass doors opening out onto a balcony and probably a swimming pool, no doubt buried under a foot of snow. Above a massive fireplace, an elk carrying impressive ivory was mounted, and other unfortunate heads decorated various parts of the walls.

Plump leather sofas in dark brown circled the fireplace, a dining table seated for fourteen and then folding doors presumably separating the kitchen from the lounge area. The floor was real stone slate and expensive looking carpet under the sofas and dining set. An enormous wrought iron candelabra carrying at least two dozen lamps lit the main area, and floor lamps were placed strategically, allowing the option of an intimate space.

It was luxurious and expensive, yet comfortable and appealing. The warmth had her shedding her jacket, hat and gloves, piling on a small seat next to the door. Obviously it was centrally heated as there was no fire lit in the marble mounted fireplace, but a few more cautious steps into the room showed a huge freestanding log burner, the orange glow adding to the warmth in the room. Not really sure what to do with herself, she picked a comfy looking chair and sat, and lost herself in the everchanging flicker of the flames in the glass window of the logburner.

When Walt appeared quietly beside her and spoke she jumped _lost inside your head again girl, pay attention to your surroundings, how could you forget such a simple thing._ Well she had been forgetting a lot of things lately, apparently when your brain tries to explode, that's a side effect.

WALT

He was startled mostly by how short her hair was, and how dark. She had told him she used to be brunette, but he hadn't really understood what that meant. It didn't look good on her, she was already thin and pale, and her face had hollows where it shouldn't. What seemed like a permanent frown crinkled her brow, he couldn't tell if it was from pain or another reason.

Lena had explained that Vic was not herself after the surgery, in fact probably hadn't been herself since the belt on the head at Chance's farm. Which explained a lot of things. But this woman sitting hunched and oblivious in front of the fire, he didn't recognise her at all, and he was worried. Why was she even here?

"I will show you which room you are in if you like" he spoke quietly, concerned when she jumped, and turned wild eyes in his direction. He gestured to the corner of the room "This way" and he waited while she eyed him suspiciously, rising to stomp to the far doorway, yanking it open and glaring at him over her shoulder

"What are you waiting for?"

He sighed and strode his way past her to the last door on the right, waiting in the hallway as he pushed the door open "The best room in the house, all yours". She passed four other doors before reaching the open one, and gasped quietly as she walked in. The room was decorated in pastel shades of peach and apricot and white, soft thick carpet on the floor, expensive fabric draping the windows, the huge bed was heaped with so many pillows you could barely make out the quilted silk covering. Fresh flowers in a pretty arrangement on the sideboard, and a pair of French doors would open out onto the terrace, and what would be a stunning view any other time of the year.

Her voice was low "What the fuck Walt? How the hell did you end up in THIS place?" and he couldn't judge the expression on her face but it looked accusing. He shrugged and leaned against the doorway, unwilling to enter her personal space any further.

"I'm house sitting for Omar. More correctly I'm horse sitting for him, and I needed to be near the horses, so he invited me to stay in his hunting lodge. The barn is right next door" and he tilted his head back over one shoulder in indication and then waited for the barrage of questions he would have expected from Vic.

There was a long silence as she prowled the room, opening cupboards, discovering the door to the ensuite before she finally perched gingerly on the side of the elaborately pillowed bed and stared at him, eyes narrowed. Her tone was doubtful "Why the hell are you not being Sheriff? You never take holidays and now you are shacked up in this place?"

Walt sighed, he didn't really want to do this now, or at all if he was honest. But she was here, and they were going to have to work it out, because if the storm settled, she could be here for longer than she realised. Henry wasn't available to play referee and there was so much history, so much unsolved between them. God he hated to deal with this shit.

"I'm still the Sheriff but I'm not actively working right now. We needed staff after what happened with Branch and you leaving, so I reached out to the local counties. Turned out there were several deputies willing to get some experience here in Durant, and one guy from Campbell County who was ready to step up and be Sheriff in Training. I've worked with them all for the last 6 months or so, and now have stepped aside to let them take the reins".

He took a deep breath "Things have changed a lot since you left Vic, including me" and with that interesting statement he straightened up, gave her a firm nod and disappeared down the hallway.


	3. Chapter 3

VIC

She was woken by Walts knock at her door "Vic, sorry to disturb you but dinner is ready, if you want some". Of course she wanted dinner! Climbing out of the rather comfortable bed, she splashed some water on her face, applied a wet cloth to various parts and dressed in some clean if wrinkled clothes from her case. While she had resisted the urge to throw the ridiculous decorative pillows out onto the snow, and instead piled them in the wardrobe, she had forgotten to put her clothes away. She sighed, she forgot so many things if someone didn't remind her. When they did, she got angry because they needed to. It was a no-win situation all round.

Padding barefoot down the plushly carpeted hallway, choosing what she hoped was the right door and pushing it open with a sigh of relief to find the lounge room. Walt stood as she entered, over by the dinner table, with reluctance she walked in his direction. Dinner for two was laid out, on either side of the table, close enough for conversation but not….. intimate. She walked to her seat, and sat down, staring at her plate for a moment before looking up at the man seated across the table, waiting.

"Who cooked this? Last I heard you could barely manage toast?"

He nodded and one corner of his mouth twitched "That's still true. There is a chef and a maid that are wintering over." He paused while she forked up her first mouthful of what her tastebuds confirmed was an excellent chicken alfredo on fettucine "The chef is Italian and seems pleased to have someone else to cook for. You should meet him, he will be delighted"

 _A maid and a chef! A Italian chef! Fucking Fantastic!_ You couldn't tell from looking at her, but food had been one of her only comforts during her recovery. Initially she still got terrible headaches and the neurosurgeon was concerned they were food related and put her on a limited diet, but as the headaches continued, she eventually decided to at least enjoy what she was eating. Everything around her made her angry, SO ANGRY and regaining control of one small part of her life, well it helped.

The pasta was excellent but one thing was missing "No wine?" In fact there was no alcohol on the table at all, not even beer. Instead there was water and iced tea in glass jugs off to one side, and she poured cold brown sweet tea into her possibly crystal tumbler.

Walt shrugged "You can't mix alcohol with your meds, I wasn't about to be so crass to drink in front of you, plus well….." and he looked away from her without finishing the sentence.

"Fuck, are you in rehab?" She laughed, a little too loud and long at that, having to guzzle down to some tea to fend off a coughing attack "That's just perfect, absolutely fucking perfect!" He stoically continued eating, still not looking at her, but the muscles in his jaw jumped more than they should while he chewed.

Delighted at this turn of events, she prodded, demanding a response "Well tell me all about it, god knows I could do with hearing a good joke" and she paused and said cuttingly "well maybe someone did tell me one but I've forgotten by now" _she was darkly delighted at how he flinched at so easy a hit, maybe this was going to be more fun than she figured_ "Come on cowboy, spill the beans!"

WALT

He pushed his plate away, he hadn't finished but his appetite was gone now, as he looked at the changeling child that had replaced the Vic he had known and cared about. Lena had warned him repeatedly that she was different, harder, darker, vicious even and uncaring with it. Lena had described it as "our old Vic but without any of the usual social filters in place" and he had heard the tears in her voice when she said it.

So he knew she wouldn't stop tormenting him til she got some form of answer so he steeled himself. It was likely Vic would discard the truth as an impossibility, but that was the only option there was "No, I'm not in rehab. But I am seeing a therapist and one of her requirements was I had to cut my drinking a lot". Fortunately the therapist had recognised he had been a functional drunk for the last year or so, and he couldn't go cold turkey, not at the time. The aim was to maintain the minimum intake required for him to work in an unimpaired state, at least until all the hearings and investigations were finally over.

Vic's expression was doubtful so he went with the full story "I had to see the therapist every day for the first few months, and every day she breathtested me." It had been one of the most humiliating periods of his life, and she still did it randomly, though his appointments were down to twice a week now. He winced as she laughed that slightly forced, hysterical laugh again and got up to clear his plate and cutlery to the kitchen.

He had to go back for the glass and the jugs, he knew the maid Maria would clear it away, but he couldn't break the habits his mother had instilled in him, nor did he want to, and Vic got him on his return visit. He noticed she hadn't eaten all her dinner either, but it had been a generous portion.

She was staring at him with a thoughtful look on her face and said abruptly "Therapy? How the fuck did they get you to agree to therapy?" Well she still hadn't lost her knack of asking just the right question, or in this instance the wrong one. He took his time gathering up the glassware, and turned back to the door and paused and spoke over his shoulder, there was no way in hell he wanted to see the look on her face when he responded

"Well, I nearly killed a man using the line of duty as an excuse for a personal vendetta, one of my deputies died, the other one wrote a compelling letter condemning my actions. I had the choice of being fired, or getting help." He waited a moment before saying quietly "I chose the help" and he walked into the brightly lit kitchen and away from the heavy silence left behind at the dining table.

So he never heard Vic whisper to herself "Well its about fucking time you made a good decision for once."


	4. Chapter 4

VIC

She toyed with her cooling dinner, picking out choice bits of the tender moist chicken and scooping up the rich tasty sauce. Her body craved protein in all its forms, she was damn near sick of eggs even in their infinite variations.

Thoughtfully she pondered Walts' words, she had written a pretty definitive and final letter explaining why she was leaving and probably not coming back. Her brain bleed had made that more final than anyone expected and after 8 months she didn't expect a job to still be available. Given her current state she would never be cleared to return to work as an active officer of the law, the most she could hope was some form of desk job.

 _God every damn time she thought about it she wanted to scream her anger and frustration to the world, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fucking fair that she should be hit in the head not once but twice, and that her brain swelled and burst a vessel so badly they had to put her in a medically induced coma for several weeks._

 _It wasn't fucking fair she had some slight vision impairment and would never be the crack shot she once had been, that her recovery was taking longer than expected and that everyone around her treated her like she was a stick of dynamite, fragile but likely to explode unexpectedly at any moment._

 _It wasn't fucking fair her life had been turned upside down and she had been abandoned by those she considered family here in Wyoming. Though if she was honest with herself, her last interaction with Walt had pretty much sealed the deal there, and Ferg and Ruby would follow as he lead._

 _It wasn't fucking fair and that anger burned constantly within her, the only thing warming her soul right now._

Tired of the voice in her head singing its ever angry song, she rose and following Walt's lead she cleared her dishes into the kitchen, scraping the food into the dish on the bench apparently used for that purpose, rinsed everything and stacked it in the industrial grade dishwasher. Like the rest of the lodge the kitchen was kitted out with the best, a monument of stainless steel appliances and marble topped benches, with tall fridges and freezers lining one wall, a huge double gas cooking hob over a double oven and an island preparation bench with a wash sink at each end. She sighed in lustful envy and went wandering, looking for Walt, intending to grill him further about the letter comment.

While she didn't find him, she did find a small well appointed gym behind the kitchen, cross-trainer treadmill and a selection of weights and a couple of machines, enough to keep any gym junkie happy. Maybe she should try the cross trainer out in the morning. The last door in the hall on that side of the building was the real jackpot though, a long wood panelled gaming room with a pool table, a small bar, a HUGE TV and stereo system at one end flanked by more leather sofas, and in the cabinet underneath, several gaming consoles. It was the ultimate man cave and she smiled, perusing the extensive stack of DVD in one bookcase, the other loaded with hundreds of music CDs.

Selecting a movie she vaguely recognised, one about a vampire who became a rockstar, she wrestled with the remote controls for some time, eventually figuring out which one went with what device and got the TV going, and the DVD playing successfully. After watching the intro she realised she was missing something and investigated the depths of the bar – lots of spirits and the good stuff too. Pouring herself a generous measure of bourbon, topping it up with coke and a couple of icecubes out of the dispenser built into the fridge , she carried her forbidden drink over to the sofa and plumped a couple of cushions and settled down for some mindless entertainment.

When you spent so much time sleeping randomly and usually too heavily, it messed with your sleep patterns. Reading tended to give her a headache, so her other options to fill in her nighttime awake periods were music and TV. Being snowbound here might not be such a bad thing after all!

WALT

He enjoyed his evening sessions with the horses, they were pleased to see a person, especially a person bearing hay and buckets of grain. The youngsters were playful, pushing their boundaries like children, but good natured even with a tendency to nip. He always wore his long coat at feed time, it gave a good level of protection from questing teeth that surrounded him as he enticed them into their stalls for the night.

The barn was insulated and heated to take the chill of the air, but the mares had come from California and didn't have the winter coats necessary to survive a Wyoming winter, so they wore day covers, and he had to rug them up with heavier ones for the night cold. He was supposed to rug up the yearlings too, but they thought that was a great game, and most of them were fuzzy enough and didn't seem so bothered by the chill as their dams were. Mind you they were eating twice as much feed as expected, he had already had to get more grain delivered. Horse was stabled at the far end, next to the two tall geldings and was looking a little round where before she had been lean, a combination of good rich food and winter inactivity. She had never had it so good.

He sat on a hay bale and gave Dog a hearty rub, Omar preferred Dog not be in the house by himself, and Dog himself had shown a desire to stay with the horses, he seemed delighted by the youngsters and appointed himself overseer and babysitter. Walt had made him a comfy bed in one corner, propping a door at the far end open so he could go in and out as need be. The barn needed fresh air with so many animals in residence, so it worked well. The young stablehand Omar had hired was initially puzzled by Walt's explanation of Dogs supervisory role, but after watching him with the yearlings she had nodded and smiled.

Giving Dogs soft ears one last gentle tug, he did one last check of everyones water, and that the covers were all snug and straight before turning off the main lights and heading back into the lodge. He wanted to check on Vic before heading to bed, but she wasn't in the lounge or kitchen, and her bedroom was also unoccupied, as were all the others. He had the only keys to the truck so she couldn't leave, and he knew how much she hated trudging through snow so he was fairly certain she hadn't left.

Concerned, he wandered back into the lounge and realised he had forgotten the TV room – he didn't watch it out of habit now, so hadn't spent any time in it himself, beyond one memorable night he and Henry had got drunk and played some very bad pool shortly after he had moved in. Hearing noise through the closed door he sighed in relief, but the sight of Vic asleep on the sofa, with an empty tumbler that smelt of bourbon quickly burned the relief away. Lena had said alcohol would either make her sleep heavily or act extremely aggressive, depending on what she had taken last. He was grateful it was the sleep this time round, and berated himself for forgetting the bar was in here and not removing the booze to the main house, like had had done with the rest of it.

Gently he reached out and grasped a shoulder and shook it with no response. He shook it again a little harder "Vic wakeup". She moaned and batted a hand at him but clearly was out like a light. Bowing to the inevitable he gathered her up in his arms, cradling her to his chest, trying not to notice how light she was, how bony her frame was and how fragile she looked with her head lolling back against his right arm.

Against his will, his heart clenched and he set his jaw and carried her carefully down the hallway, it was more than wide enough and deposited her gently on the bed, pulling back the coverlet and tucking her in underneath its silken layers. After a moments thought, he laid her out in the recovery position, and retrieved a waste bucket from under the writing table and placed it in easy reach of the side of the bed. Lena hadn't mentioned any unpleasant side effects but he would rather be prepared for the worst. Her pulse was steady and strong, and her colour was good, so he left one small lamp on in case she did have to get up in a hurry in the night, and left her sleeping.

No one need know how long he had spent standing there staring down at her in the bed, or the soft caress of one finger that had pushed her bangs away from her eyes, and traced its way down her jaw or the thumb that had brushed with butterfly softness across her lips. No one at all

* * *

 **Song Inspirations:**

Slept So Long - Jay Gordon Queen of the Damned Soundtrack

We Used to Be Friends - The Dandy Warhols

Where the Lonely Ones Roam - Digital Daggers

A Legacy of Comfort - Martin Phipps and Mediaeval Babes - Virgin Queen Soundtrack


	5. Chapter 5

VIC

The hissing slide and muffled thump of snow falling off the roof right outside her bedroom window finally roused her from sleep. It felt like swimming through dense heavy water until eventually she reached the surface and consciousness.

Afraid to open her eyes, she licked her lips with a tongue that felt dry and leathery, and the headache pounding behind her right eyeball was a much more familiar hangover pain, rather than the other kind that was responsible for a lot of her short temper and attention span. She groaned just a little and wondered how the hell she could feel so awful on what she was fairly sure was one double bourbon and coke.

Bowing to the inevitable she cracked an eyelid, and then the other one, and waited for the view to come into focus. OK she was in her bedroom _a quick patting of the hands verified she was still wearing yesterdays clothes too_. There was no way she was responsible for the single lit lamp or the waste bin conveniently next to the bed. Obviously she had passed out and Walt had found her, and carried her to bed. Well nothing to be done about it now, so she carefully levered herself vertical and not quite tottered into the bathroom in search of soothing hot water.

 _The shower had been amazing, a huge rose in the ceiling and jets surrounding her on three walls, all adjustable. Eventually she tired of playing and just leaned on one wall, letting the water pour down her back and body until she felt capable of facing the world._

A cold breakfast of pastries, fruit, yoghurt, cold meats and cheeses sat covered on the dining table, next to a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice. The dispenser on one of the industrial fridges gave chilled water and icecubes, and the headache eased as she nibbled and enjoyed the juice and dutifully drank a tall glass of water, knowing dehydration was part of the cause of the headache.

She stood staring out at the landscape, unrecognisable under the thick covering of snow. The sky was grey and heavy and low, threatening to dump more white stuff across Durant, and as she pondered the view, flakes swirled and skittered in the rising wind. Vic sighed, clearly they weren't going anywhere today if the snow continued. Chancing the trip in clear weather was one thing, in a potential blizzard, even she knew it was a stupid and dangerous choice. _It didn't stop his Royal Sheriffness climbing his way up Tensleep though, saving the day, getting the guy, and being the hero yet again._

Where was his Royal Sheriffness anyway _she should remember that, he would HATE being called that_ clearly he was up well before she was. Noting the time on her phone, well most people were up before she was, it was nearly 11am. Vic stared at her phone for a moment longer, her brain slowly clicking into gear, in the time she had been here she had no calls or texts, and the tiny one bar of reception appeared the reason why. Holding her phone up in the air she walked across the room, to see if there was any improvement. Nope, in fact the other side of the room had no service at all. Interesting.

Realising her mother was probably wondering how she was doing, she returned to the windows, and sent a quick text [Got to Durant fine, snowing heavily, hardly any cell reception in the ass end of beyond!] left her phone on the dining table to catch any possible reply, she went exploring, not…really… looking for Walt, but curious all the same.

* * *

 **Hello lovely readers, I'm going away for work for a couple of days so here is a short update to tide you over. The next bit would be too long otherwise.  
**

 **I'm loving all the feedback and questions, know that I started this story knowing the end and the beginning (in that order) and some key scenes in the middle. The rest is still telling itself to me and its heavy stuff in places so I am giving it the time and space it needs to be the story it wants to be. So your patience is appreciated, we will get there in the end. The good news is Pt 1 of my assignment is 3/4 done and should get it finished this weekend. So only Pt 2 and the EXAM to go!**

 **Song Inspiration**

 **In the Dark - The Birthday Massacre**


	6. Chapter 6

VIC

Knowing it was going to be freezing outside and she hadn't bought proper winter gear, so went looking for the closet. Every house in Wyoming had spare jackets and snow boots and hats and stuff. A door off the foyer labelled Mud Room provided everything she needed in at least one size too big, but she wasn't going far, so it didn't matter.

Shrugging into the heavy parka, struggling to do up the zip with extralong sleeves getting in her way, the sound of an engine zooming up to the doorway outside caused her to pause and then jump out of the way when the door swung wide open with an energetic push. The woman standing outlined in the doorway was a stranger, a tall dark haired dark eyed striking young woman who smiled toothily at her, stepped forward and put forward her hand to shake while saying in the most appalling accent

"Gidday, you must be Vic, The Holy Terror. Heard lots about you. I'm Maria, the maid here"

Giving up on the zip and startled by this genial greeting, Vic returned the handshake and said cautiously "What country are you from, Maria" _she said it MahREEEah with no roll on the R, not at all Spanish sounding_

"Stone the crows mate! I'm an Aussie, can't you tell?"

Vic shook her head "No I've never met anyone from Australia, though my ex-husband lives there now. How did you end up in Wyoming?"

Maria eyed her for a moment and grinned "What you are really asking is why the hell am I in this frozen hell in the arse end of nowhere, right?" when Vic nodded she continued "Dahl it's the bloody skiing! OMG you have the most fantastic skiing here and the slopes are empty. Its bloody beaut!"

Standing there in her oversized parka, Vic felt dwarfed by this energetic amazon, who must be damn near 6 feet tall and glowing with a light tan. She wrestled with the zip again for a moment, giving up and unzipping the damn parka before sighing and looking out at the snowbound landscape.

Maria was eyeing her curiously "You OK mate, you look a bit pale" Before Vic had a chance to answer, she shut the door behind her, bustled behind Vic and stripped the parka off, wrapped a long arm around her shoulders and marched her towards the kitchen "C'mon into the kitchen and I will make you a hot chocolate, you look like you could do with some feeding up"

Unprepared to resist this gentle enthusiasm and compassion, Vic went, taking a seat at the island bar as directed, and listening to Maria's chatter about local gossip, her hopes for the ski conditions after the current dumping and some burble about Omar while she got out a pan, heated some milk, added chocolate powder and broke some chocolate bits into the pan, stirring til it steamed, tasted, added some sugar and poured two large mugs full and joined Vic at the bar.

Carefully sipping the steaming beverage Vic smiled, it was creamy and rich and just sweet enough to take the edge off the dark chocolate bitterness. Taking a mildly interested tone she queried "Omar is where right now, did you say?"

"Oh, Omar is in Alaska somewhere with some wildlife TV crew who wanted to film up by some big mountain up there that's impossible to get near in winter" she shrugged eloquently "They wanted a winter trekking and camping expert and Omar got the job. Cept they got snowed in and stuck and the weather has packed a sad big time. They managed to get a chopper in to drop food and supplies, but he is stuck there for a while by the looks of things" she shrugged again "So its just you, me, Paolo and Luscious Longmire"

Vic choked on her drink and nearly spilt the mug down her front. Putting it down on the bench, and wiping her face with her sleeve, she asked disbelievingly "What did you say?"

Maria grinned at her again "Luscious Longmire, you mean you haven't noticed? Have you seen the way that man sits on a horse?" she sighed in blissful remembrance "He could ride me anytime he wanted"

Vic was unnaturally lost for words but managed to ask "Has he?" she was aiming for curious, but must have sounded much more serious because Maria leaned back in her chair a tiny amount, and bit her lower lip for a moment before saying slightly less cheerfully "Sadly no, even though I offered to warm his bed one night. He told me his daughter was older than me and started giving off the biggest Dad vibes he could" she bit her lip again then queried "Is there something going on with you two?"

Pondering how to respond to this, with a flippant 'God no!' or take the opportunity to have the first real unjudgemental conversation she had had in a while? Vic sighed, not realising how much her shoulders slumped and how dejected it made her look "Once I thought there might have been something, but then he made some really bad decisions, REALLY bad. And I didn't want to be dragged down into that mess, not after last time. So no, there is nothing going on there" she smiled a bright but brittle smile at the younger woman "Be my guest, but I doubt you will have any luck. He is an oldfashioned kinda guy. I don't think one night stands are his thing".

Maria nodded slowly "Yair? No worries then mate" and she smiled again "How's that hot chocolate treating you?"

Vic retrieved her mug and enjoyed a slightly cooler mouthful, before asking "So how do you know Omar? And how did you know who I am? I wasn't sposed to be here but my other plans fell through, and the weather…." She stopped, the weather was an obvious problem.

"Omar? I met Omar in a bar in Jackson, one thing led to another and I ended up staying here for the winter. Free place to stay, beaut food, only a bit of cleaning and tidying to do, and I get paid. Whats no to like?"

"You slept with Omar?"

"Course I did!" she lowered her voice conspiratorially even though they were alone "He thinks he likes strong women but he doesn't really, so it was only a couple of times" Vic nodded, she had come to that conclusion herself, one of the many reasons she had declined his many requests for ….dinner.

Maria continued "Henry called me about you coming when he knew he wasn't going to make it. Cell coverage up here is crap so he calls and leaves messages for Walt on the landline at the house"

Vic pondered this and said slowly "So you know Henry too?" _does this mean Walt has a cell phone, am I hallucinating? Did I take the right meds this morning?_

A nod and a slow smile "Oh Yair, I know Henry, he's a piece of alright. They breed them tall and pretty in this part of the world don't they?" At Vics nod she carried on "Yair Henry spent loads of time here when Walt was preparing for the big inquiry thing, they Skyped with his lawyer daughter…"

Vic filled in the blank "Cady"

"Yair, I always forget her name, its odd. Anyway, when Walt had to defend himself at the inquiry, they spent hours writing stuff out, and talking about what happened, that deputy who got shot by his Dad, the guy who got Walts' wife murdered, all that stuff. Stayed up til all hours, kept me busy making sure they ate something sometimes"

 _Holy Shit! There was an inquiry? What the hell happened? Why the fuck did nobody tell her?_

She shifted a little uncomfortably in her chair before saying "I was in hospital for a while with a head injury and have big gaps in my memory. I don't remember anything about an inquiry? What happened?"

Maria sat up at attention, eyes bright with the chance to gossip further "Oh that's you! Bloody hell, sorry I'm such a drongo, should have realised" She closed her eyes thinking for a moment "I think it was about 3-4 months after you left. After everyone spat the dummy about the Barlow thing and they had the funeral and all, Walt turned himself in to the Mayor, saying he had been unprofessional and stuff. So they had an inquiry a couple of months later"

 _Holy Fucking Shitballs! Walt admitted he might have been wrong and stepped up to face the music? She had given him grief about exactly that in their last….discussion…..before she left and ended up not coming back. His unprofessional behaviour and use of department resources in the search for Martha's killer, in what became his revenge vendetta against Nighthorse and Barlow, those were some of the reasons she gave in her resignation letter. She didn't want to be involved in another shitstorm like what had happened in Philly, and it was going to happen. Neither Barlow or Nighthorse would go quietly, and Jacob certainly had a valid case to make against Walt's actions, or the Sheriffs Dept. It was hard to tell where one ended and the other began, and that was a problem._

Her voice was quiet as she asked "What happened at the inquiry?"

"Dunno, I wasn't there but Walt had to see a psychologist over in Gillete every day for a couple of months, and they got some other guys in to do his job, and when Omar got the deal on the horses, he offered Walt the job to train and handle and break them"

Thoroughly confused now but unwilling to give up on this deep vein of information Vic queried "Deal on the horses?"

Maria smiled "Yes his Pretty Ponies I call them. He took some fancy oil sheiks son hunting in the desert and they rode purebred Arabians. Omar was really impressed with their endurance abilities, and so the son offered to pay him with some mares and foals he had in California that he wanted to move cos of the drought there. So Omar got a barn and a stable built and they got shipped over about 5 months ago and Walt has been here ever since".

Completely lost now, Vic gamely carried on "What is Omar going to do with the horses?"

"Oh breed the mares probably and have lots of adorable babies. I think he planned to do long distance treks into the mountains to the places you can't get to with a car. Real hard yakka stuff, yanno?" Vic didn't know, but she nodded anyway. She drained the last of the hot chocolate and walked to the sink to rinse the mug.

From behind her Maria said "Leave that dahl, I'll clean it up later. If you are looking for the Luscious Longmire himself, he will be in the barn or the stables right now" she looked at her watch "Lunch will be ready in about half an hour, let him know will you?" and she whirled off down the hallway, opening doors in preparation for her cleaning frenzy no doubt.

Exhausted by her energy, and by the burden of all the new information she was carrying, Vic shrugged into her parka, wrestled the zip into submission and ventured out in search of the barn. Armed with questions. Wondering if she would ever get answers.

* * *

 **So it turns out driving 400km in a day gives you LOTS of thinking time and this brand new scene revealed itself to me today, and it was too good not to share. I decided to take the piss a bit with my Aussie OC, hope it translates OK.  
**

 **Like Vic I leave you with some answers but MORE questions no doubt :)  
**


	7. Chapter 7

WALT

He noticed because the gelding noticed, being entirely too interested in what was going on around him and not the rider on his back, a habit Walt was not yet sure how train out of him. He saw Vic enter the arena from the side door from the barn, look briefly around and then slowly walk forward to lean on the railings, seemingly watching horse and rider with interest.

Giving up on getting anything useful out of the gelding, given both their concentrations were shot, he walked him around the arena a couple of times on a loose rein. It served two purposes, to cool the horse down, and to teach him that the lesson was over when Walt said so, no matter what the big grey gelding's opinion was. There seemed to be a never ending supply of horse opinions, to both their frustration most of the time.

Walt had grown up around horses and had a good understanding of their psychology via his father, who was an innate horseman. Walt considered himself an adequate rider, mostly due to lack of quality teaching, an experienced horse to learn on, and enough time to master the art. His time with Horse had gone a long way to help, but theirs was a relationship of mutual trust. He had not had to train Horse, not the way Omar was expecting him to train these headstrong Arabs.

Reaching the far end of the arena, where he kept his gear, he slid both feet out of the stirrups, before swinging his right leg over, and dropping in a smooth controlled drop to the ground. He had been surprised at how comfortable the English saddle had been once he got used to it (and once he had found one that would fit both the horses *and* him!)

Buckling the halter strap around the gelding's neck, he unbuckled the girth, ran the stirrups up, and slid the whole heavy leather bundle off the back and onto the nearby rail. Pulling the reins over the horses head, he unbuckled the throatlatch strap and slid the snaffle bridle up over the ears and when the horse obligingly let go with his mouth, down over his head, to hang over the rail next to the saddle. So many new buckles and straps and different names for things! The pile of reference and research books in his bedroom grew weekly it seemed, when he found a new thing to read about.

Taking a moment to scratch the big grey down the crest of his neck under his sweaty mane, he was young and inexperienced and a bit silly, but not stupid and deserved a treat. Not stupid at all, flighty perhaps, but there was intelligence in those big dark eyes, Walt just hadn't found the right way to connect with it yet. Noting his coat was still a bit warm and damp in the cool air of the big arena, Walt hooked up the noseband of the halter and retrieved the long coil of lunge rope from the pile in the corner. Hooking up the clip, he let the coil fall to the sawdust floor, collected the very long lunge whip in his far hand, keeping the long lash tight, unclipped the tie rope, and grabbing the lunge lead from the ground, led the gelding out into the middle of the arena.

Time to work a bit more on his long line technique, work the gelding in both directions for flexibility, and cool them both off for a bit. Stepping back 6 or 8 feet, keeping the line taught but with a light touch in his left hand, he gave the gelding a quiet "gee-up" and a suggestive wave of the whip off to his right. The big dappled grey knew this game, and dropped his head and walked forward, more in resignation than enthusiasm. Walt put his energy into focussing just behind the geldings shoulder and bought the whip in a touch closer til the gelding was able to see it trailing a few feet behind his tail.

Ah, that bought a touch more energy to his pace, and stepping in a tight circle to keep up, Walt slowly let the line play out till there was about 12 feet of line between them. He kept the grey going in a big slow circle, keeping hard focus on the point behind the shoulder, and letting the long lash trail down on the ground, every now and then a bit of a flick to remind the gelding it was there.

It was hard work, lots of concentration on all the different things going on, keeping the line taut, keeping the circle round, trying to get the horse to work with energy, and above all not getting dizzy! But when the big grey dropped his head, licking his lips and moved out well, Walt knew he had got the point, and gently bought him to a halt, and took some time for some scratches and pats and some "good boy" murmurings.

Walt was aware of the irony of the fact that what he was doing was essentially therapy, and he was being paid and paid pretty well for it. He would never ask, but he suspected the job offer was out of pity for the situation he had found himself in. Omar knew Walts' experience with horses did not cover training them under saddle, and even less so with breaking in babies, but as he said to Walt on the day "I need a horseman, someone who understands and can relate to the horses. That is a skill that can't be taught. You have that, and you can learn the rest. I trust you Walt, and I know you will treat these animals well" He had clapped Walt on the shoulder and refused to hear any further discussion on the subject.

At the time he hadn't been that grateful at the opportunity, more bitter about the circumstances that had bought it about. Several months later he found himself looking forward to his days spent with these noble creatures, even this big stroppy one, who wasn't that keen on going the OTHER way round the circle. He cursed himself for forgetting, and starting with the less favoured side first. The silent hovering presence of the woman still leaning on the side of the arena was a constant awareness, and after spending a few more minutes battling with the disobedient gelding, he sighed and called it a day.

Dropping the whip on the ground to collect later, he walked towards the horse, coiling up the line as he did, and grabbed the halter with a firm hand and let his full weight hang off it for a moment and the horse stilled under the reminder. Pausing to make sure no further temper tantrums were pending, man and horse walked quietly down to the far end, where he clipped the tie rope to the halter, unclipped the lunge line and replacing it in the corner. Grabbing a dandy brush he gave the horse a quick going over to lift and help dry the coat and then taking a softer body brush and a curry comb he started work on giving him a more complete groom.

The stable hand did this daily in the mornings, and would also do it after the workouts if Walt let her, but he felt the quiet time was a good one for bonding with the horse, that it was good for their relationship to have a positive benefit for the horse, rather than only being exposed to Walt's presence for training. Plus it helped him get to know each animals personality better. This big grey (who Walt had dubbed Omar) was a bit full of himself and pushy and curious, all of which meant he had a short attention span and was a challenge to train.

The other gelding, a dark chestnut, was lazy and not inclined to exert himself unless he had to and was an entirely different challenge. Walt had mentally named him affectionately, Bob and they spent a lot of time bonding while being groomed because Bob *adored* it. His ears would flop sideways and his lower lip dangle, quivering now at then when the brush got into a particularly ticklish spot. He was a pain in the ass to work on the ground, and hard going to ride, but his nature was so endearing Walt didn't mind too much.

Running a firm hand down each leg, checking for heat or swelling, before lifting each hoof to check for stray stones or other pickups, he made a point of holding each leg up for a second or two longer than needed, always taking the opportunity to teach or underscore a lesson.

It was the nervous sidle of the grey that alerted Walt to the fact that Vic had finally wandered their way. He turned, one hand on the greys neck to calm him and watched the slight dark haired stranger standing there in an oversized parka, hands jammed in the pockets as she eyed them both warily.

He said quietly, not to startle the gelding "You can come closer and say hello if you like". She flicked him a suspicious glance but sidled forward a couple of steps and cautiously held a hand out, palm out flat and fingers tucked in tight and he breathed a small sigh, she had remembered his lessons as well.

Her voice was quiet "What's his name?"

He paused for a moment "Well he has a fancy stud name, which I can't pronounce" and he paused for a longer moment "So I call him Omar".

She smiled a quick fleeting smile and tucked her hand away and stepped back out of range and saying "Maria told me to tell you lunch would be served in about half an hour. That was about 20 minutes ago"

"Ah you met Maria, I thought I recognised the look on your face" he smiled as he said it but her answering expression was a bit hard as was her voice

"What look?"

His smile was a bit more forced this time in response but he kept it light, non threatening "Oh that startled, 'not quite sure what just happened' look" he grinned more naturally "I feel like that everytime I talk to her. I don't know if all Australians are like that or if it just Maria, she is certainly an experience!"

Another small grudging smile and a nod towards the horse "Do you need a hand carrying something when you put him in the barn? I assume you are going to come and have lunch?"

Surprised at the offer, he hesitated and then nodded "You can carry the bridle if you like". The English saddle was lighter compared to his usual Western one, but still heavy enough, and she didn't look sturdy enough to load her up with that too. He could come back for it later. He picked up the bridle, arranged the reins over the headstall properly and handed it to her "If you hook it up over your shoulder it won't drag on the ground" and she nodded and with some help, got her arm through the right gap and safely tucked over her shoulder.

Motioning for her to walk ahead, he undid the leadrope, and all three of them trooped out of the arena, across the cold concrete into the side door of the barn. Walt was glad for his hat and his tight fitting soft black leather riding gloves that the cold weather had made a requirement. In the warmer barn, he stripped the gloves off, tucking in the back pocket of his jeans, while leading the gelding into his stall, checking he had a full hay rack and water bucket before unclipping the lead and sliding the stall door shut, and locking down the latch. He hooked the lead around the railing and then turned to show Vic the tack room but she wasn't beside him.

Instead she was down at the far end, pressed up against the bars of one of the big stalls, the one that had 3 of the seven long legged babies in it. They were curious about this new comer, reaching up with questing lips to tug and pull whatever they could find within reach. Luckily the stall bars were close enough to prevent Vic putting her arm through and risking losing a finger without him there to warn her.

She turned as he stepped up beside her, and for the first time he saw a genuine smile on her face as she looked at the fuzzy long legged ungainly foals in the stall and asked hesitantly "Can I come back after lunch and meet them?"

He relieved her of the halter, and smiled gently back in return "Absolutely, it's their turn for freedom then and I could do with another set of hands, if you want to help". She nodded, eyes on the baby horses again, and he hung the bridle up in the To Be Cleaned section of the tackroom. Rachel the stable hand would be delighted, she loved the English tack and adored taking it apart and cleaning it and putting it back together, apparently the leather responded nicely to being cleaned, different to American gear.

The two of them headed in for lunch. Of course the topic of conversation was the horses, and Vic was so diverted by the subject that she seemed like her previous self. He answered her questions but resisted asking any of his own, it was so much like how they used to be together that he didn't want to spoil it. He hoped the rest of the afternoon would be as good.

* * *

 **YAY! We get to the horse bits :) For those who care I was involved in the local Arabian scene here for about 10 years, I had a share in an imported English Arabian stallion and eventually bought myself a lovely grey gelding when he was 6 months old and spent the next couple of years learning how to teach a young horse what he needed to know. Was a learning experience for us both, but quite rewarding.  
**

 **Eventually RL intervened and I sold him back to the breeder where eventually he became an experienced endurance horse and was sold to the UAE for a small fortune when he was 10. His name was Bentley and he was a real character.**

 **Song Inspiration**

 **The Story - 30 Seconds to Mars**


	8. Chapter 8

VIC

They ran the yearlings through the alleyway between the barn and the arena, and she understood the reason for the fenced part of the laneway between them now as the 6 young horses thundered their way across the concrete, bucking and prancing in excitement of being let out to romp.

Walt closed the gate and left them to it, and took a seat on a handy hay bale in one corner after throwing another one over the divide for her. He sat, gloved hands in the pocket of his heavy jacket and watched the yearlings chase and play, leant forward in concentration, eyes narrowed.

She shrugged her shoulders and snuggled into her parka, feeling a bit warmer with gloves, a double layer of socks and a woollen hat to complete what she was sure was a fetching Wyoming winter ensemble.

After about 10-15 min the level of exuberance died down, and Walt retrieved something rattley from his corner pile of stuff and walked into the middle of the arena. Immediately he was mobbed by the young animals, she wasn't certain she would like to be so completely surrounded, but he had pats and words for each one, deftly avoiding curious mouths that had a tendency to nip first and act innocent later.

A loud burst of noise had them all scattering, snorting and bucking, but clearly a familiar event, as they all settled into a steady run around the arena, propelled forward now and then by a shake and a rattle of whatever Walt was holding. Even at a young age she could see them racing, competing to be first, or attempting a nip at the side or rear of the yearling who had the temerity to pass them. Again he ran them for a while until energy levels began to flag and she watched puzzled as he vaulted over the far end of the railing, and threw an armful of brightly coloured ball like things into the arena, vaulted back and then distributed them about the place.

When one of the yearlings picked one up by a handle she realised they were horse toys! Having no idea such a thing existed, she was oddly delighted at the concept and laughed as two of them played tug-of-war with a blue toy that was clearly designed for such a purpose.

She arched an eyebrow as he lowered himself down on his haybale and queried "So this is how you spend your days now, being kindergarten teacher to baby horses?"

"Yep"

She knew he wasn't going to give anything away easily and was inclined to needle him "Is this some kind of therapy then, its obviously far too much fun to be punishment."

He turned his head, eyes narrowed in consideration or judgement, she didn't know and carried on recklessly "Its nice you have a retirement option" and waved a hand at the young horses "Better than being in your mid thirties with only one skillset and not being able to use it." Her tone was airy but the words were designed to cut and she could see by the tightening of his mouth that they had. Smiling a little inside, she sat back pleased to have scored at least one point against him today.

WALT

Stinging more than a bit at the rebuke and reminder he got up without speaking and walked away, heading back into the barn, it was time to bring out the other players to his horse kindergarten. He opened up Horse's stall, she would follow him, and he got the smallest softest halter out and smiled through the bars at the tiny filly waiting expectantly for him on the other side, her dam watchful but familiar with both him and the routine.

He carefully haltered the filly, leading her dancing on the end of the lead rope, Horse following at his shoulder, and the mares ringing whinny behind them as he navigated the doors and gate back to the arena. Horse meandered in her usual way, and the filly released to play bounced like she was on springs over to the other youngsters. She was a late season foal and half the age and size of the yearlings, so he waited til they had burned off the excesses of their energy before letting Little Vic out to play.

Horse was a dominant mare and a good role model for these young horses to learn manners from. With her wilder upbringing she didn't have her natural instincts civilised like the other horses and she didn't put up with bad behaviour and was quick with a correcting nip or an angry stamp of a foreleg. She could also be persuaded to play when in the right mood, which the youngsters thought was the best game of all and today the game of choice was a free-for- all tag.

Watching, judging that the smaller dark bay filly was holding her own, and not being too roughhoused, he resumed his seat next to the filly's namesake, if somewhat reluctantly. But her attention wasn't on him but on the horses. He sat watching the play, judging temperaments and performance, looking at their gaits, how they carried themselves, who was in charge, who followed. Horses were herd animals and ruled by the herd dynamic, he needed to understand that to be able to work effectively with them.

Vic's voice drew him out of his musings "The smaller one you just bought in?"

"The bay filly"

"Bay, OK is that a colour? Anyway yes her, she's different to the other ones isn't she?"

Surprised at her perception Walt turned and asked "What makes you say that?"

Vic shrugged, eyes still on the horses "Well she is smaller and a much darker colour, but she moves differently, carries herself differently. Bounces a bit and kind of floaty too"

He nodded, Vic didn't know much about horses, but she was perceptive and trained to observation "Omar bought her mother from the Sheik's son" He waved a hand "All the other horses were the payment, but Omar saw her dam and insisted that he have her too, and of course the filly had to come too"

Vic queried "Dam?"

"Dam is a horses mother. Sire is the father"

"Oh, alright. Well her mother must be quite something then I guess?"

He smiled a bit to himself, and stood up "Would you like to see for yourself?"

She looked up at him, curious but wary "I guess so, do I need to move or something?"

"Well you can give me a hand penning up these troublemakers for a moment"

He whistled up Dog who leapt over the railings behind them and asked him "Round them up into the corner" and waved an arm indicating the corner beside them. Dog circled the youngsters, yipping a little and darting in with pretend nips to heels and the mass started slowly heading their way. Walt vaulted the railing again coming back over with a coil of rope over his shoulder. Turning the hay bales on their end, he placed them out a few feet from the railing and about 10 feet apart, and motioned Vic to stand and block the short end at her end. Working quickly he rigged up a low fence, enclosing the youngsters as they were herded in, looping the rope through the top of the bales, it was just at the right height to pen them. He pointed at Dog "Guard" and Dog flopped down on the ground in front of the pen.

He threw a "Wait in the corner, be back shortly" over his shoulder as retrieved his shaker thing and headed back to the barn, Horse following again as he left, leaving the gate open behind him.

VIC

Uncertain what to expect, she waited next to the penned youngsters, and sidled closer to the pen, but just out of range of tugging teeth. When the loud clatter of a horse moving quickly over the concrete laneway echoed through the arena she focussed on the gap expecting Walt to be leading a horse in.

She gasped as a red black fourlegged blur exploded into the arena, half circling it before bouncing to a poised halt and surveyed her surroundings. Tall and elegantly built, with long black stockings up her legs, mane and tail black but her body a dark red mahogany, this mare was absolutely stunning.

Large dark eyes gazed about her, head high, ears pricked. Vic had seen a shadow of this in her daughter, the long arched neck, finely chiselled face curving to a tiny muzzle, long clean elegant legs and she stood with power and grace. Walt walked into the arena, closed the gate behind him, and slowly walked up to the mare, quietly talking to her, and she bowed her head, queen like and allowed his caress down her neck for a moment before snorting and staring directly down at Vic and the babies.

Walt stepped back and took his shaker out, and gave it a brisk rattle and the mare leapt forward into a ground eating trot, tail flagging high behind her as she swept around the arena, barely seeming to touch the ground. Vic was enchanted and could see why Omar had insisted, he was a collector of beautiful things, and this was one of the most beautiful creatures Vic had ever seen.

Another rattle of the shaker had the mare prop and turn, cantering this time and throwing in an energetic buck or two, snorting her opinion of the situation which had Walt smiling as he followed her progress around the arena. There was a plaintive cry from beside Vic, and the small filly who was the image of her mother slithered out from under the rope that was a little too high to contain her, and cantered over to join her. A touching of noses and a bounce from the filly and the two of them swept serenely around the arena, two royal ladies out to enjoy some fresh air and exercise, the mare continuing with that impossible long floating trot, and the filly cantering beside her to keep up.

Walt joined her in her corner, leaning back with a half smile, enjoying the view "You have an eye for a good horse Vic" and nodded to the two dark beauties making their rounds "The mare is from pure desert bloodlines and apparently quite rare and prized. Omar paid a small fortune for her"

Vic asked "What's her name"

He shrugged "Something that translates into Dark Desert Rose I think, so we call her Rose"

"And the filly?"

He shifted, chewing on his lower lip and ducked his head before saying quietly "She doesn't have a name yet"

"But you call her something, don't you?" she was curious at his reluctance to tell her.

He looked down and to the side, anywhere in fact than at her before saying somewhat idly "The filly is smaller than the others, but tough, ready to take her licks and get into the rough and tumble. When she grows up she is going to be beautiful like her mother and everyone who sees her will want her" and finally he did look up, and the expression in his eyes was dark and intense "I call her Little Vic"

 _Her breath caught, and she was surprised to feel a lick of heat uncoil and flicker in parts south. Parts that had up until now been numb and cold like the rest of her. She was caught in the intensity of his gaze and she remembered…_

 _She remembered long drives on sunny days, giving him shit about the crap music on the radio, sharing lunches at the Bee, hunkered down on freezing nights on stakeouts, drinking beer and talking bullshit at the Red Pony. She remembered the easy friendship, trust and intimacy they had shared as partners who spent more time together than married couples did. She remembered the slow building awareness of him as a man, not just as the Sheriff or as her boss, and the wondering if he shared it._

 _Finally she remembered the day he had fucked it up entirely, and the reason she had chosen to leave….._


	9. Chapter 9

**_8 months earlier_**

VIC

Surprisingly Barlow had called the shooting in himself, she was never sure if it was last minute guilt or just a way to make him look better in front of a jury. She and Ferg were in the office and raced out the door at speed, she was surprised when Ferg grabbed her arm and said urgently

"Let me drive, I know the fastest way there." Vic knew she was the better driver but he was right, he grew up in the area and knew all the shortcuts and back ways and threw him the keys. Ferg gunned his way out of Durant, lights and siren wailing, leaving a trail of dust and smoking tires and questioning faces behind them as they raced out of town. Bouncing in her seat, hanging onto the Jesus handle with one hand, calling the EMT with the other, Vic looked at Ferg with new respect, he was handling her rig with competency and confidence and absolutely hammering it down the road. She knew she couldn't have got them there any quicker.

She was half out the passenger door by the time Ferg bought them to a skidding stop, her Glock out and pointing at Barlow, who stood there, hands up, two shotguns broken open on the ground in front of him, and his son bleeding out on the ground a short distance away.

Throwing him a look of disgust "Ferg, cuff him and put him in the back of the truck and let the EMT know we have a gut shot GSW." Holstering her Glock Vic raced over to Branch who was still alive and ripped off her shirt, wadded it up and placed it firmly on the wreckage that had been his abdomen. Shot twice in the same area didn't look good, and he was pale and sweaty and screamed as she put necessary pressure on the wound.

"God Branch I'm sorry, this is going to hurt but we have to control the bleeding, help is on the way. Hang on Branch, hang on." The blood was oozing out too damn fast and she started to pray quietly under her breath _you can take the girl out of the church but not the church out of the girl_.

Weakly he reached up and tugged at her arm, saying something, and she leaned down to hear him, his eyes were unfocussed and his breathing ragged and hitched with pain "Tell Walt. Tell him I'm sorry." His eyes scrunched up in pain and he groaned a little "Its on my phone, tell Walt" he panted, getting paler and his grip loosened and his breath faded away "…..sorry" and his head lolled.

Swearing and crying she took his pulse and when she felt nothing under her fingers she sat back on her heels and screamed her distress to the uncaring blue sky. Unheeding of the tears streaming down her cheeks, or the blood covering her hands, more streaked across her white tank top and smeared across one cheek, she sat at the side of the wreckage of a fine man, a colleague and a friend and mourned his untimely and unnecessary loss.

WALT

He had been on his way to Nighthorse's office. Even alight with the need to avenge Martha's murder and bring the killer to whatever form of justice he could manage, the call from Ruby that one of his own had been shot was enough to change his destination. Nighthorse didn't know he was coming, didn't know he'd found all the missing puzzle pieces. He didn't know that Walt had finally allowed that banked simmering anger to flare into hot burning flames. Walt had paid the price for letting it burn too bright and too early in Denver and would always wear those scars, so he had waited, watched, learned to tamp down and use the anger as fuel to drive him forward.

Now he had what he needed, knew what he knew, and by all that was holy, Nighthorse was going to pay and pay hard for what he had done. For killing an innocent woman, who ironically was dying anyway, and ripping the heart out of the man who loved her, leaving him buried beneath the overwhelming guilt of failing to be there and protect her.

 _For so long he had burned, roasted on the fires of his guilt and grief. He knew it was all that had sustained him during the long dark period of his mourning, but he was blind to the fact it had consumed him as well. Hollowed out the shell of the man he had been until only anger, vengeance, despair and pain was left. So he drank, to numb the pain, all the hurt he couldn't stop, couldn't control and couldn't express._

 _Hector had said that 'Death was final, but pain stayed with you as long as you were alive' and he knew, oh he knew how true that was. So now he was going to take the moment and bring pain raining down upon those who had hurt him and his. Pain that would dog their every steps, keep them awake at night, and ache constantly during the long lonely days._

His thoughts churned as he took the corner that sent him in the direction of the Connolly family farm. Barlow had called it an accidental shooting, but Walt knew he was a crack shot, one of the few people in the county he considered an equal with himself. Even Omar respected Barlow's abilities with firearms. There was no way he could have shot Branch accidentally, so it must have been deliberate.

 _But why would a man like Barlow, so very proud of his family heritage and position in Wyoming society shoot his_ _only_ _son and heir?_

Walt remembered one of the last conversations he had with Branch, before he finally resigned as Deputy. Frustrated at the lack of support at the time for his David Ridges case he had exclaimed "If I can't investigate it properly here, maybe I need to go somewhere I can!" Everyone had been surprised when he had joined the family firm, Branch had always rejected any thought of working for his father, claimed he had enough of being bossed around by him as a kid, didn't need it now.

 _Click Click Click wheels turned, wheels turned again, and a pattern began to emerge_

With only half an ear on the radio _he heard Vic and Ferg in transit, Vic calling in the EMT, Ferg calling in the GSW update and he knew it was bad_ he had a greater distance to travel, even taking the backroad shortcuts, the roads weren't sealed but that didn't stop him barrelling down, lights and sirens on.

His brain began to join the dots, assemble the new pieces. Maybe Branch had discovered something connecting Barlow to Nighthorse. In public they cordially loathed each other, but so much of their business was related, it was hard to see how they could avoid dealing with each other. The golf course Barlow was building was designed to cater to the high roller gamblers the new casino would bring in, whether deliberate or not, theirs was an unspoken partnership.

If the casino had failed then the golf course was equally doomed. Martha had been a prominent and vocal opponent of the casino, maybe one night over an expensive single malt an idea had been formed, a phonecall made, a meeting set and a proposal offered. Perhaps a gentlemens agreement over shaken hands, an exchange of money for services rendered, the services of David Ridges perhaps?

Walt gritted his teeth and snarled as he wrestled the big heavy truck through its sliding turns up towards the crest of the hill where he could see Vics truck parked. It was entirely plausible and the fact that Barlow had shot Branch was the clincher. There was no other explanation.

He didn't realise he was growling low and angry under his breath as he slammed out of the truck. He assessed the scene in one sweeping glance. Branch was dead, Vic kneeling at his side, hands bloody and her shirt wadded in the wound. Dismissing that as inconsequential to his immediate urgent need for answers, dammit, he stalked over to Vic's truck and opened the back door and with one hand hauled Barlow out roughly.

Teeth gritted in effort, he fisted his left hand in Barlows shirt and hoisted him up and slammed him against the truck hard, and then again for good measure. Forcing the words out between teeth clenched so hard his jaws ached

"Now I have your attention you bastard, tell me why your fucking business deal was so goddamn important you had to kill my wife for it?"

Half dazed Barlow shook his head, face bright red as he tried to force Walt to let him go. With his feet not actually touching the ground he didn't have the leverage, so instead made the mistake of trying to talk his way out of it

"Walt, fuck it wasn't me, it was Nighthorse" he wheezed short of breath, turning an even darker red but Walt was incensed and oblivious to his distress.

Walt closed his eyes for a moment and the words ripped his throat as he cried harshly "YOU KNEW! HOW COULD YOU KNOW AND NOT BE INVOLVED?" and Barlow raised his hands in defeat

"Let me down, God let me down and I will tell you everything"

With that his last control snapped and he roared, deep and heavy with anger and grief and hammered a right hook into Barlows face, whose head snapped back and then lolled as he passed out from impact and lack of air. Uncaring Walt slammed his fist a second time into Barlows ribs, snarling in grim satisfaction at the sound of at least one of them breaking under the impact.

Breathing heavily, Walt lowered his victim to the ground, and held him there and grated out "Fucking oath, you will tell me everything I need to know if I have to beat every single motherfucking word out of you, you motherless cunt" and Barlow coughed and groaned but out like a light.

He had been so focussed on Barlow he had forgotten everyone else there, but the sound of a Glock safety being clicked off behind him and the cold hard voice of his deputy speaking in a tone he had never heard her use before bought him back to reality.

"Longmire, let the man go or you will have the dubious honour of being the second one legged ex-Sheriff of Absaroka County". She sidled into his peripheral vision. He could see she had the Glock out, her stance was steady and prepared.

Unwilling to let Barlow go, and uncertain that she really would shoot him, he tucked his chin in mulishly and replied "You wouldn't shoot me Vic, I'm the Sheriff taking a suspect into custody."

Her voice was still cold and hard "Right now you are abusing a suspect in what's either an accidental or deliberate homicide. Also you are interfering with an active crime scene, MY crime scene. I note that the victim is one of our own, and was your Deputy for several years and yet you damn near stepped over his still warm body to beat the living shit out of his father."

She paused and firmed up her stance just a fraction "No court in this land would convict me if I shot you right now, in fact I would probably get a commendation and a promotion." She paused meaningfully, scorn undercutting her hard cold tone "Your job, you asshole. Now step away from Barlow."

* * *

 **Your tears are delicious to me, lovely readers :)  
**

 **Song Inspirations:**

 **Riot - One X**

 **Bleed it Out - Linkin Park**


	10. Chapter 10

**_8 months earlier continued_**

WALT

Through the haze of righteous anger and vicious fury, the meaning of her words sank in and he stepped back, hands in the air. Barlow was barely conscious enough to lean against the truck and stay standing up and Vic ordered Ferg to assist him. The ambulance and EMT crew were in view and would be on site in a few minutes.

Vic motioned Walt round the other side of her truck from view with the Glock and he did the perp walk, hands in the air. She grabbed his Colt out of the holster, roughly patted him down for backups, remembering to check his boots and the small of his back, and thoughtfully removed his pocket knife too. Curtly she held a hand out "Keys to the truck too" and he handed them over.

They stood there in a Mexican standoff for a moment, she was in charge but he was her boss and she sighed heavily "Fuck Walt, you have fucked this one up big time. Barlow is going to press charges, and anyone who takes a look at the damage you did to him will know he has a strong case. Do I have to cuff you?"

He realised now that she would, that he had crossed the line badly, too far to step away from and shook his head. He had thought that vengeance would make him feel better, but right now he felt worse than ever.

Vic stalked away, taking control of the crime scene, directing the EMT crew where to go, Barlow was being assessed in the back of the rig, and the other two carried a stretcher over to load up Branch's body into a black body bag. The sound of them zipping it up tore a hole in Walts composure.

Up until now he thought the only thing that mattered was catching Martha's killer. He had that within reach of that but now stood on the precipice of losing everything else in the process, his job, his income, his relationships in the community, the respect of friends and family, the support of his team. It was then that Walt realised how far down the rabbit hole he had fallen, and that he didn't know the way back or if it was possible to come back from this.

He waited, both Connollys loaded into the back of the ambulance, Barlow in cuffs with Ferg along for the ride. Vic stood watching it drive away as she radioed a status update into to Ruby, who sounded shocked. Vic finished up her call

"Walt and I will work the scene, Ruby can you call Campbell County and see if they have a couple of spare guys to lend us for a week, maybe two. I think this is going to get messy. Unit Two out."

He had walked around her side of the truck once they were alone, and she eyed him hands on her hips for a long moment.

"I don't know what the fuck is going on with you Walt, but you ever pull a stunt like that on me again, I will shoot you, in the knee like I fucking promised. Are we clear?"

He nodded but before he had a chance to speak she carried on in that implacable tone

"I have to work this crime scene, before I do, tell me what the fuck that was about. Because if you are involved in this, I can't have you here but I'm not sure I can trust you out there either. So explain, clearly and logically, right now"

* * *

 **A very short update for my lovely readers, with my exam in two weeks I am deep in study mode. It doesn't leave any space for creative writing but I will finish this, I promise, about half the story is told, so more to come!**

 **Song Inspiration:**

 **Heart of Everything - Within Temptation**


	11. Chapter 11

**_8 months ago contd_**

VIC

She held back a sigh her truck made its way down the bumpy unsealed road away from the crime scene, trying not to look at the man hunched in the seat next to her. It had been a long afternoon, processing the crime scene by herself, fielding calls from a distressed Ruby, a concerned Sheriff Wilson in Campbell County and others she didn't have time to pay attention to right now.

The Bronco remained parked at the crime scene, its battery and a couple of necessary and easily removed cables locked in a storage compartment in her trunk. Walt had ungracefully taken the passenger seat, she could feel the anger simmering in him like heat, pressing against her skin. Face forward, hands on the wheel, she drove them both back to Durant, and to some form of resolution for the days events.

Walt had shifted in his seat as she drove past the usual Sheriff office parking, and before he could say anything she said sharply

"We have an appointment at the Mayors Office"

That had startled a surprised look out of him, but the office was on the other side of the Town Square, and she neatly put the truck into the free County Official spot, set the brake and keyed the vehicle off. They sat in contemplative silence for a long moment before she said quietly

"I need your Sheriff's badge and any other forms of official ID you have"

He stared at her, jaw clenched, muscles jumping as he mastered the temper she could clearly see in the dark depths of his eye and she held her hand out, palm up in silent request.

This time she sighed audibly and with a hint of her own temper "Walt you leave me no choice, you assaulted a homicide suspect, interfered with an active investigation for personal reasons, could potentially have jeopardised our case and likely bought a law suit against the department. Right now you are not fit to carry out the office of Sheriff, and it's almost certainly a conflict of interest given your wife was the victim."

She looked him in the eye, calm and resolute "I am doing the right thing here and you know it. You also know I did it once before and paid the price for it. You told me then you would still have hired me *because* it was the right thing to do."

Vic waited, hoping her words would get through to the big, angry and all too dangerous man in the other side of the vehicle. When he sighed and nodded and unpinned his badge, placing it into her outstretched hand she totally didn't sigh visibly in relief, but nodded once with a curt "Thanks". Together they headed inside to what was likely to be an unpleasant meeting for all involved.

Walt was temporarily relieved of duty, pending the outcome of the case. It was implied fairly heavily that they expected to defend a law suit from Barlow, and *that* outcome would also have some consequences to be answered to as well.

Vic was unwillingly made Acting Sheriff in the meantime and the Mayor agreed to cover additional expenses incurred due to the department being at 50% manpower, including some security to maintain watch over Barlow while he recovered in hospital for a few days. They also discussed the possibility of having to bring in the FBI, given it was a case that had crossed state lines, with Martha's murder in Colorado, and Branch's in Wyoming. If Jacob Nighthorse was involved, then there was probably even more involving dodgy financials.

It was a fucking mess and right now they had a dead body of a colleague, his father in medical custody and no goddamn evidence linking it to Walt's dead wife. Walt had stalked off after the Mayor had grimly expressed his disappointment at Walt's behaviour and the likely consequences it would bring, he appeared unrepentant which wasn't doing him any favours at all with the other senior County Official.

Grimly Vic pinned the Sheriff badge to her shirt _luckily she had a spare in her go bag, though it was quite creased and crumpled_ , circled the truck around the town square into her usual park, and ascended the wooden stairs, knowing she was unprepared for the reception she was about to get, but also knowing that no one had any choice in the matter, her least of all.

 _If the only thing she could save out of this giant clusterfuck was some tiny shred of integrity on Walt's behalf then she would try, goddamit. He might well be right, but until they had the evidence they so desperately needed to tie it all together, right now it was all just supposition and theory, and thin at that. If only her fucking head didn't hurt so fucking much!_

 ** _Too fucking early in the morning, the next day_**

Vic was startled awake by the sound of heavy tread on the landing, and a solid thump on the wall. They turned the light off to discourage late night visitors so someone was fumbling to find the doorhandle in the dark. Before she had a chance to react, the door slammed open and Walt shambled in, crosseyed drunk, reeking of beer _she wrinkled her nose in disgust, yuck and other things_ and mumbling and slurring incoherently.

Glad that at least she knew where he was now, she guided him into the cell, kicking the galvanised bucket into the corner for whatever bodily waste might require it, and with a tired glare, locked him in for the night. She had been stuck at the office taking care of endless fucking paperwork generated by the change in command. Ruby had been quite upset to hear about Walt's misdemeanour (as she called it) but had gamely stepped up and assisted Vic with all the things necessary for the handover.

Plus there was all the usual day to day paperwork that needed to be taken care of, so Vic had grabbed a takeaway dinner at the Bee and settled in to clear as much as she could. Some of it was going to have to wait til she could discuss it with Ruby tomorrow…..and at some point, the painkillers she had taken to try and take the edge of the endless fucking headache had finally won, and she had fallen asleep on her folded arms at her desk.

Resuming her seat and ruefully rubbing her neck, Vic watched Walt as he lurched about the cell, nearly falling over, and piled in a heap on the thin uncomfortable mattress, growling and cursing to himself. When he started snoring thunderously, she cursed a little under her breath, and retreated to the sofa in his office, shutting both doors in the hope it might muffle the sound. It did but not quite enough, and she lay awake on the hard sofa for a long time in the dark, lit by the orange glow of the sodium vapour streetlights.

A slamming car door bought her to a startled wakefulness in the dim predawn light, and she breathed heavily for a moment as the adrenaline poured through her system, and her everpresent headache woke up and joined in the fun. Feeling sick in her stomach, she quietly checked on the still sleeping heap occupying the cell, and retreated to the office. Her office, she supposed, but was too tired to do anything about it right now.

Two phone calls were made and messages left. After a long thoughtful moment she made a third call and wasn't surprised when this one was answered even at this early time of the morning.

Her voice was rough and scratchy "Its Vic, I need your help and we need to talk. Can I come over?"

Closing her eyes in relief when assent was given she replied "I need to shower and change, see you in about an hour?" Further assent and she signed off and stared sightlessly at her phone for a long long time. This was not a conversation she wanted to have, but right now with Walt locked up in his own cell, she didn't see any other choice.

* * *

 **Hello possums, yes its a cold wintery night here in Down Under and instead of studying, I'm doing something fun instead. Here is youre next chapter in my little story, enjoy! Only 2 weeks to go and then I get my life (or evenings anyway) back!**

 **Song Inspirations:**

 **Powerless - Linkin Park**

 **Can't Talk About It - Abney Park**

 **Everything Burns - Ben Moody f Anastacia**

 **We Used to Be Friends - The Dandy Warhols**


	12. Chapter 12

**_8 months ago contd_**

WALT

The smell of strong coffee and bacon filtered their way into the hungover haze clouding his brain, forcing him awake. His stomach rebelled at the thought of food, making him lurch to a hunched sitting position, head in his hands and he groaned, and the hammers inside his skull clanging loudly made him regret a lot of things right now.

The smell lingered, and eventually he uncrusted his eyes enough to slit them open carefully, seeing the semi darkness of early morning, he ventured opening them further to see the underneath of a pair of well worn cowboy boots leaning up against the bars of the cell door. Crossed casually at the ankles, the same way he liked to do it when waiting for a miscreant to wake in the morning. It was a trick he learned from Lucian.

So his brain wasn't really surprised to hear those deep cultured tones ring out from the shadows, words drawn out that extra bit longer, the way Lucian did when he was pissed at you for something. It made him a great poet, but in Walt's opinion, a lousy teacher. Lucian was *always* pissed at something.

"Awake now, you useless piece of shit excuse for a Sheriff?"

Hands cradling his head gently at the temples, Walt wished desperately for a hot shower and a change of clothes and then, maybe then he would be ready for a strong hot black coffee. First he had to talk his way out of the locked cell, he always needed his A game with Lucian, years of playing chess had taught him that. He was so far off his A game it wasn't funny.

Trying to force some saliva into a mouth as dry and furry as one of Henry's mounted heads, he coughed and forced a gravelly rumbled response.

"Ex Sheriff"

Lucian laughed an evil chortle, sounding both pleased and pissed off "Yes, the lovely Sheriff Moretti filled me in on the details this morning" he paused for a long while, eyeing Walt a certain amount of calculation in his expression "All the details."

Too hungover to want to play Lucian's games, and not really caring that much anyway, Walt lay back down on the uncomfortable bunk and tipped his hat over his eyes before replying

"Why are you here Lucian? If its to torture me, trust me that's already happening. So go away and let me sleep"

Lucian laughed one harsh bark "Right now, watching you locked in your own cell is the best entertainment I've had in years, and I would happily sit here all day, enjoying the moment." A stomp as his booted feet hit the floor loudly and Walt winced, then paid more attention as the lock in the cell door rattled while Lucian fitted the oldfashioned key into it. The key would only turn if you fitted it just so, and eventually it clunked open and the door swung open with a slight creak _should really oil that one day_.

The older man leaned against the metal bars of the door way, arms crossed and expression thoughtful _ah that's where Branch got that particular habit from_. The two men looked at each other, so many years of experience between them, working together, not friends but not enemies either.

Finally Lucian stirred "You armed?"

Walt wasn't sure, Vic had taken his Colt and pocket knife, but the events of the evening before were blurry memories of a lot of beer, and yelling and walking the streets in the dark. He shrugged and replied

"Nope."

"Good cos I am, not only that, I got deputised to be your goddamn babysitter. Don't make a bigger fool of yourself than you already have. Get your stinking ass in the shower, and I'm taking you home."

Walt struggled to process all that for a moment and Lucian continued mercilessly "Vic said, and I quote 'Shot him in the fucking hip if you need to, maybe being in wheelchair will give his brain a chance to start working again'." He patted his hip where a holster had a familiar pistol handle poking out the top "Yes mister, I will shoot you with your own damned gun. Are we clear?"

That much he could process and nodded "Clear" and shoved himself up to stand, swaying just a little before grimacing at the unpleasant smells rising off his reeking body and clothes. Walt tipped a head in the direction of his office "I have a change of clothes stashed in the washroom, OK if I grab them and head downstairs for a shower?"

They stood only a couple of feet apart and the moment stretched as Lucian made judgement and asked "Going to give me grief?"

Walt shrugged, rubbing a calloused hand over his extra stubbled face "Where would I go? No truck, no weapon, no ID and probably no money either. Right now even Henry would probably stand beside you and watch you shoot me." He sighed, tired and heartsick "Just take me home Lucian, if you want to yell at me, probably better if you wait til I'm awake enough to yell back."

He stepped forward and Lucian eyeballed him one more moment, before wrinkling his nose in disgust and let him pass. Walt collected his stash of clothes, and was halfway out of the office on the way to the shower before his brain kicked into gear

"You don't own a vehicle. How are we getting out to my place?"

Lucian was drinking the last of his coffee and took his time about it

"Vic and I drove out to collect your Bronco, as well as getting a Deputy Badge, I got that too, asshole"

Walt nodded "OK then"

 _It wasn't till much later that he realised Lucian had visited the place where his brother had shot his nephew, leaving Branch to bleed out into the dusty ground. The bloodstain would have been clear to see given it was only the next day. It wasn't till_ _much_ _later that Walt found out that Lucian had asked Vic to take him out there, demanded it in fact, as his price for agreeing to babysit the disgraced ex-Sheriff he had trained himself._

* * *

 **Another chapter for my lovely readers, I had a friends birthday dinner to go to tonite, where I ate my first ever Graham cracker! No study, so here is the next installment in my story. Enjoy! Its back to the text books tomorrow!  
**


	13. Chapter 13

VIC

It had been a shitty start to the day, having to drive Lucian out to the crime scene _she had to stop thinking that it was place Branch had died or else she might say it out loud to the wrong person_ and he had stood there, grim and silent for a long time. Vic had waited silently beside him, taking the time to say her own prayers and good bye, given there had been no time for it the day before. With a sharp nod and a hmmpfh Lucian turned, held out his hand for the keys to Walt's truck and smiled a nasty grin,

"Time to start babysitting, he still locked in the cell?"

She nodded and said quietly "Lucian I need you to keep him out of harms way and away from anyone to do with the case" her voice faltered and she couldn't look Lucian in the eyes when she finished up "Keep him safe from himself too.."

Lucian barked a laugh "Girlie I will keep him just drunk enough to be incapable but not so drunk to be dangerous" and slammed the truck door shut, wrestled the bench seat a bit closer to the steering wheel, and lurched off down the hill eventually finding the smoother road.

"That's what I was afraid of" she muttered to herself.

Next stop of the morning was the hospital to update Ferg on the situation and check on Barlows' status with whatever doctor she could find.

Ferg was rumpled and tired eyed but pleased to see her. Vic welcomed the harsh strong cup of coffee he handed her, and wrapped both hands around it for comfort as she sipped in between telling Ferg about the events of the last day and night. Of necessity it was brief and edited and she finished up,

"So the Mayor approved for a couple of security guards to watch Barlow, they should arrive pretty soon so you can go home and grab some sleep. The extra guys from Campbell county should arrive after lunch and I'm going to need you to take them through how we do things, is that OK?"

She had learned the hard way that a Sheriff got better cooperation out of the deputies if there was two way communication, plus she liked Ferg and was in desperate need of his help. He was no doubt as shaken and as adrift as she was, most likely, so they had to stick together. She sighed and drained the last of the coffee.

Ferg's voice was quiet but firm, as he put a hand on her arm to still her from rising, so she sat and looked at him seriously

"Vic, I know this is rough on you, its rough on both of us. But I'm proud you stepped up and took over as Sheriff. I want you to know you have my full support, no question."

She smiled a small private smile for the two of them "Thanks Ferg, that really helps. It is going to be rough but once we get these cowboys from Campbell County doing all the callouts, you and I can get down to serious business. Sound good?"

"Sounds pretty good to me Sheriff. Oh you will need this" he handed her a stationary file box with the lid on and she looked at him in confusion "Its Branch's and Barlow's personal effects. I got them bagged and tagged and in the box ready for you."

She smiled "Hell I had forgotten all about it, good job. You head home and grab that shower and some sleep, I will wait here for the security guys and check in on Barlow. Did he say anything interesting?"

"Just the usual 'I need to call my lawyer' and stuff about Walt" he looked down at the floor "Is Walt OK?"

Vic's smile was much the same as Lucian's had been earlier "I have Lucian on guard duty, but he is calling it babysitting. Oddly happy about it too."

Ferg's face was a study "Oooh Walt isn't going to like that much"

Vic rose to her feet and said firmly "Right now, what Walt likes or dislikes is the least of my problems. You good?"

He nodded and yawned "All good Sheriff, see you in a few hours" and ambled his way sturdily to the lift and the joy of a hot shower and a comfortable bed. Vic was deeply envious, she would feel so much better if her goddamn head didn't feel like someone was hammering a metal spike behind her right eyeball. A red hot metal spike!

Barlow was asleep when she ducked her head into his room, his face was impressively bruised and puffy and from the chart it looked like he had two broken ribs and a fractured eye socket, if she deciphered the medical terminology correctly. Walt sure packed a punch when he wanted to, and she ruefully rubbed her temples with both hands, trying in vain to quell the ever present headache.

Taking the seat outside Barlow's room, she checked her watch, nearly 9am so the security guys should be here soon. Reception had been notified to let them up, and hopefully a doctor or ward nurse would pass by soon so she could update them.

A hand gently shaking her shoulder roused her, with a quiet male voice saying "Vic, ummm Sheriff". Shaking herself awake _shit falling asleep on guard duty was not a good look_ she saw the nice young doctor who had checked her over after the shitstorm at Chance's farm. Never remembered his name.

"Oh sorry Doctor, I was waiting for the security guys to arrive. Late night, must have fallen asleep" she stifled a yawn and looked blearily at him "Did you need me for something?"

The red headed doctor sat in the chair next to her and looked hard at her for a few moments before saying

"How is your head, still getting the headaches?"

Too tired to care about lying, she nodded tiredly at him and winced a bit doing so, her neck had cricked while she was sleeping in the chair

"All the fucking time, and not getting any better either. I would have come seen you about it, but, well things have been a little busy lately."

The doctor nodded "I'm concerned about the headaches, Vic, I think you should see a specialist. Your home town is Philadelphia right?"

She nodded and winced again, rubbing one side of her neck where it was tight.

"I have a colleague who works in the Neurosurgery department at Hahnemann University Hospital, I could get you an appointment there, probably take a couple of weeks though."

"Doc I appreciate it, but I'm probably going to be here trying to solve a homicide. Don't know how long that's going to take."

He nodded, and scribbled on a notepad, tearing it off and handing it to her "In the meantime this is a script for some stronger pain meds and an anti-inflammatory. See if that helps and come back and see me if it doesn't."

He rose, tucking both hands into the pockets of his white lab coat "Need to take good care of our Sheriff now, don't we."

She smiled, touched at his kindness and empathy, and he smiled back before striding steadily down the hallway, avoiding the two tall bulky uniformed men treading in heavy soled 'kick butts and ask questions later' combat boots. These must finally be her security guys.

Her stomach rumbled noisily as she pulled into the usual Sheriff space at the Red Pony. The two pill bottles in her shirt pocket rattled, both had to be taken with food, so she decided to kill two birds with one stone, seeing Henry and grabbing some much needed food. The half bowl of cereal she had choked down several hours ago was all she could stomach so early in the morning, and it wasn't nearly enough.

Resting her forehead on her hands still gripping the steering wheel, she closed her eyes and took a quiet moment, hammers still pounding inside her head. Hopefully some food and the new meds might help, but first there was a necessary conversation to be had with Henry.

His face lit up as she strode steadily towards the bar, but didn't return his smile, instead he got a nod and a firm

"Sheriff's business Henry, can we talk in your office?"

He took a step back, surprised at her flat tone and nodded

"Of course Sheriff, you know the way"

She kept walking and opened the door to the office and stepped in as if she owned the place.

HENRY

Puzzled at Vic's serious demeanour Henry waved her into his office, and poured a couple of cups of coffee, adding cream and sugar to Vic's and elbowed his way into saying

"How can I help you on this fine day in Absaroka County, Sheriff"

She was standing with her back to him and half turned, and the light from the high window above his desk showed the tear tracks trailing down his face as she said an a choked voice,

"Oh God Henry, I don't think anyone can help me sort out the fucking mess Walt has got us all into!" and she burst into messy noisy sobs.

Startled, he put the coffee cups down in a hurry, heedless of them spilling brown liquid onto his desk, and covered the distance between them in two long strides and wrapped Vic gently in a hug, cradling her against his body like a child, and lowered them both to the sofa, crooning wordlessly in Cheyenne. When the crying storm finally ended with wiping of face and eyes, he silently handed her the hand embroided handkerchief out of his pocket and waited while she put it to good use.

He spoke quietly and calmly, as if to a fretful child or frightened animal "I heard gossip about what happened at Barlow's farm yesterday, but when I didn't see Walt I assumed it was under control. What happened Vic? What did Walt do?"

* * *

 **Hello Lovely Readers! I sat my exam last week so have LOTS more time now. Had to take a few days to get my head back in the game as well.**

 **Quite a few people commented they are finding Vic a little hard to take in this timeline, so here is a chapter from her POV that might help**


	14. Chapter 14

VIC

Her hands were firmer on the steering wheel as she headed back to Durant. The crying jag had been embarrassing but cathartic and Henry had offered an understanding and non-judgemental ear for her to confess her sins. Only they weren't *her* sins at all really.

She sighed, a wistful expression of the desire for everything to not be as shitty as it was right now. Some decent food and the new meds seemed to help her headache _a dawning realisation that hardly any food had passed her lips the last few days and not really enough the past weeks, woman can not live on coffee alone, no matter how much sugar you put in it._

Her radio crackled to life with Ruby's voice "Base to Unit 1, are you there Sheriff?"

 _She would never get used to hearing her voice answer to that title, ever_

Keying the mic on with one hand "Go ahead Ruby"

There was a pause and Ferg's voice came over the air "Umm Vic, sorry Sheriff, the guys from Campbell County are here. Well most of em anyway."

Puzzled as to the emphasis on the last line but not clear what it mean she replied "Ok find out what they know and don't know and start them on the paperwork with Ruby" her mouth quirked for a moment "I'm sure there is LOADS of paperwork to do. I'm about 15 min away."

The smile was evident in Ferg's voice "Roger that Sheriff, see you soon."

Well her new recruits were here, time to see what she had to work with. The truck hummed down the blacktop in the afternoon sun, alight with anticipation.

She caught herself at the top of the stairs and deliberately went in via the side door into …. her office, pausing by the desk to pickup the pile of paperwork and postits – this weeks colour pink and green. Idly flicking thru the documents but not really reading them, she walked slowly into the main office, and waited, still not reading the paperwork for a moment longer, before facing the room and the several people standing there, awaiting her attention.

Ferg hovered off to the side and three other men stood front and center, at the usual rather relaxed cowboy version of attention ie they were vertical and sober. Two were similar enough to be brothers or cousins, and both bore a startling resemblance to The Ferg but were taller with slightly darker hair. The third man was tall and lean with it, so he appeared even taller, but Vic could tell in the way he held himself that he had seen action and was comfortable with his ability to respond physically should need demand it. He reminded her a lot of Henry with a quiet watchfulness but also a sense of calm about him.

Vic crossed her arms, cocked a hip and raised an eyebrow at Ferg, so he bustled to make the introductions

"Guys this is Sheriff Vic Moretti, she is running the place while we ahh ….. get things sorted out …." He trailed off and rallied, pointing to the slightly taller and darker one of the cousins/brothers

"This is Harvey, he is my cousin on my Dad's side, and this is Davey, my cousin on my Mom's side" he paused and swung back to Vic "We spent summers together at my Uncles place up by Lake De Smet, these guys know Absaroka County pretty well" both cousins smiled casually at her and nodded, and Davey tipped his cowboy hat with a quiet "Ma'am".

Well, she could get used to that and turned to the third unidentified man, who with a shared glance at Ferg stepped forward and offered her his hand to shake

"Leon Davies ma'am" he said in a quiet deep voice that seemed a little incongruous from a slender man, she couldn't place the noticeable accent from so few words so firmly shook his hand and nodded as he stepped back in line.

Pursing her lips she turned and strode a few steps one way and a few steps back the other way and planted, hands on hips

"OK team, you know we are short handed here cos all kinds of shit has gone down and your boss kindly loaned you lads here to help out. Huey and Duey can team up with Ferg, I need you boys out on the road dealing with all the local calls, picking up the slack there. You good with that?"

She paused and the three men smiled and nodded to a chorus of "Yes Ma'am" and she smiled and nodded back "Ferg you are Deputy in Charge, can you make sure these guys know the Durant way of doing things and stuff?" The Ferg's smile was ear to ear and he nodded happily "Sheriff, all taken care of."

"OK good, see Ruby to get the keys for Branch's truck" when a quiet voice interrupted her

"Excuse me Sheriff, but wasn't Deputy Connally the man who was shot?" he paused for a moment in recognition of the seriousness of what he was saying "Then has his vehicle been properly assessed and all evidence collected? That should be done before the vehicle goes back into circulation"

Impressed at his chutzpah in calling her out she nodded slowly "Yes it has had an initial assessment" her brain whizzed for a moment and she remembered "You are the forensics specialist at Campbell! I didn't expect Sheriff Wilson to send you."

He nodded "Given the circumstances, it seemed like you could do with some specialist help, so I volunteered". Thoughtfully she nodded and said seriously

"Yes an independent viewpoint could well be useful, and if you are as good as I hear, we need your help. OK sweep the truck first" She pulled the spare set out of the drawer on Branch's desk _how long would it take her to stop thinking of it being his desk_ and threw the keys to Leon

"Ferg will show you where its parked and where we keep our gear" she paused for a minute pondering "I thought there was going to be four of you?"

Huey Duey and Leon shared a meaningful glance before Leon carefully replied "Kyle has a rather flexible approach to keeping appointments but I am sure he's on his way". They eyed her nervously but before any response could be made the private entrance door slammed open in the back office, footsteps jauntily echoing through the building and they all turned in surprise to see a monumentally handsome man in tight faded jeans, a short sleeved plaid shirt and cowboy boots and a bright white hat saunter in and grin with good humour into the room. He turned his eyes to Vic and very slowly and obviously gave her the once over while he hung his hat off the stand and leaned aggressively against the door frame.

"Hey ya'll, sorry I'm late" not sounding sorry at all "Someone introduce me to the Big Bad Sheriff" and he winked at Vic "Hey darling".

Turning her head in Ferg's direction she caught his eye and winked and nodded a fraction towards Kyle, and Ferg nodded back a tiny amount. Pasting on a wide bright and entirely fake smile she sashayed over to Kyle til she was in touching distance and murmured low and throaty "Well hey there cowboy, aren't you just the prettiest thing I've seen all day" she laid on her best southern accent and it was a pretty good one.

Kyle straightened and smiled down at her as she trailed fingertips up his bicep, up across his shoulder until she was behind him and with some gentle pressure she forced him forwards into the room, continuing to trail her fingers down his right arm and leading him into the open space a bit further. Peripherally she noticed the deputies had moved back towards Ruby's desk so she had an open space.

Quietly and firmly, before Kyle could protest she grabbed his right arm in a reverse wristlock, adding pressure to the triceps with her left hand, the sudden pain startling Kyle off balance, and within an eyeblink he was on the ground face down and gasping in pain. She looked up at the startled faces of their audience and nodded to Ferg who stepped forward and cuffed the groaning man, and when she let go hauled him to his feet, his face shocked with pain and surprise

He was opening his mouth to complain and she cut him off, her native Philly accent a harsh contrast to the soft buttery Southern tones from a moment before "You just got introduced to the Sheriff, asshole. No Big Bad here, its Sheriff Bitch to you and you can piss off back to Campbell County, I have no time for pretty boy assholes who can't turn up to a new job on time!"

"Excuse me Sheriff Moretti" Leon's quiet voice from behind her stopped any further tirade, and she turned, still on the edge of temper but stopped, confused he was holding out a cellphone to her, and from the screen she could see it was connected in all call and he spoke again, the phone obviously on speakerphone "Sheriff Wilson go ahead"

The other Sheriffs voice sounded the usual tinny over the iPhone speakers, she was even more confused when he started talking and not to her "Kyle, talk to me". All eyes in the room talked to Kyle and he shuffled over closer to the phone, Ferg following close by

"All good sir" and his voice was crisp and alert, not the idle cowboy drawl it had been earlier "She took me down with a nice reverse wrist move I haven't seen before and was about to send me home, tail tucked between my legs, I repeat, we are all good". All the eyes in the room were on Kyle now and he smiled an edged smile and tilted his head towards Vic "Your call Ma'am".

Mentally she shook herself and picked up the phone, keying off the speaker "Was this a test Wilson, cos if you send any more of your boys over her to misbehave like that, I might break the next one properly for you" and there was still an edge of temper in her tone.

Wilson laughed "Vic hell I believe you can and would, I just needed to make sure that you could handle a stressful situation the right way. Kyle is my second in command here, I trust him. He is too damn pretty for his own good but he makes it work and gets the job done. You should keep him, it would be good for the both of you". Vic let out the breath she was holding explosively, and held back what she REALLY wanted to say, instead eyeing Kyle with evil intent, responding into the phone "I will keep him on trial, and we'll see" and keyed the call ended with no pleasantries. Having the gall to test her responses!

She gathered herself for a moment, handing Leon his phone back "Ferg get the cuffs of Pretty Boy here and take him with you, now you have two teams, Leon and I will do the forensics on Branch's truck. Ruby, I will be back later to take care of the paperwork I'm sure is waiting for me. Get to it people!"

* * *

 **Hello lovely readers and thankyou for waiting patiently for me. Yes I sat my exam and passed and my final course mark was 90% so pretty stoked about that. Had some other challenges for my time and creative energy plus I am a bit blocked on how some of the rest of this story comes together. Waiting for it to magically appear didn't get me anywhere so now I am just going to write it as I can and hope the rest falls into place.**

 **Most of my chess pieces for the story are on the board now, so hopefully the rest of it will play out naturally. Thanks for waiting for me and I will be back, promise, might not be updating quite as fast as I usually do tho - its been freezing cold here in Winter downunder, we have had snow and below zero temps for several days. As I usually write at night time to save on heating costs I have been going to bed earlier on the colder nights. Enjoy the Longmire Days, wish I was there!**


	15. Chapter 15

VIC

She could sense the weight of Leon's careful gaze on her as she led the way down the rarely used back stairs and into the yard behind the building where Branch's truck was currently parked out of the way. The original library building had some with stables and other outbuildings but all that remained was a courtyard with room to park a couple of vehicles if you didn't mind manoeuvering in very tight spaces.

Leon carried two large plastic tool boxes, each one twice the size of the kit she carried, and her fingers itched with the need to open up and explore the unknown delights within. Professional curiosity of course… The pair of them clumped down the slightly creaky wooden stairs and stood for a moment while Vic gathered herself. Watching a stranger work on Branch's truck was going to be more challenging than she thought and she muttered mostly under breath

"Shit is going to get real."

She could tell Leon was politely ignoring her as he knelt, opened up a kit box and pulled out a disposable full body condom, booties, a hat and gloves. Clearly he was intending to carry out the Fully Monty and she handed him the keys once his protective clothing was in place

"Do you mind if I wait around…. In case you have any questions?" Her tone was less of a question than the words were, and he nodded, murmuring in that slightly odd accent

"Of course, I have quite a few questions already, if you don't mind while we work, Sheriff?"

Vic sighed, of course he had questions "What did your boss tell you about why you lot are here?"

Leon pulled a nice digital camera out of his box of goodies and proceeded to methodically shoot the exterior of the vehicle, both distance and some closeups, and he talked while he worked

"Sheriff Wilson didn't say much, just that a personal matter had meant Sheriff Longmire had to step away from this case." He paused "Of course the death of his wife was old news but gossip had it that some local businessmen may have had something more to do with it."

Vic leaned on the stair railing, arms crossed and nodded

"Carry on"

Leon stepped and crouched and snapped and stood and snapped "Obviously Durants Sheriff Department is seriously undermanned and we were sent along to assist til everything gets sorted out" His eyes weighed her shrewdly "How long is that likely to be Sheriff? I would like to tell my wife when she will see me again" but he said the last bit with a smile and she nodded in acknowledgement

"Deputy I truly fucking wish I knew! Right now we have to run a tight ship and a clean investigation and hope we find the evidence we need, just like any other crime. Do you need anything special for you to work your magic?" and she gestured at him and his gear

"Just some quiet space to work and think ma'am and somewhere to put everything safely"

She sighed "Use W….Use my office when I'm not there, I barely have time to eat these days. I will let Ruby know"

His quiet "Thankyou Sheriff" followed her as she clumped back up the stairs to the endless supply of paperwork awaiting her.

 _Late Afternoon, Two Days Later_

Ironically Vic was at her desk for a couple of hours late afternoon when there was a tap at the closed door, the door opened and the tall lean frame of Leon stepped into the room

"Apologies for disturbing you Sheriff, but I have completed my assessment of the contents of Branch's truck but I appear to be missing his clothing and personal effects from the day of the shooting. Are they still at the hospital?"

Vic stared at him blankly for a long moment as she processed what he had said and with a loud explosive "FUCK!" she burst out of her chair and dashed out of the room at a jog, throwing a "Come with me " over her shoulder on the way out.

Leon shrugged and his long legs carried him in Vic's wake down the stairs, across the street to her truck parked in the Sheriffs spot under the trees. She was swearing loud enough to be heard halfway across the street as she rummaged in the back of her truck and emerged triumphant with two clear plastic bags clutched in both hands and held them out to him

"I completely fucking forgot, Ferg gave me these the day after the shooting, and I put them in my truck to bring back and completely fucking forgot about them!"

Leon looked at both parcels and queried "Two?"

She nodded and pointed to the one in his left hand "Branch" and the other one "Barlow – his father"

"Barlow, the man who shot him and who we have in custody? Was his father?"

Her smile was grim and toothy as she nodded "Wilson didn't tell you that juicy bit of gossip then?"

Leon gathered both precious packets of evidence close as Vic closed up the truck and they walked back into the office

"I will go over these with a microscope if I have too"

"I hope so"

 _Morning, a further Two Days Later_

Vic trudged up the stairs, weary after a difficult hour with the Mayor. Barlow had been transported to Rawlings and was in medical confinement and his lawyer was making a pest of himself at the courthouse. Understandably the Mayor wanted a firm idea of how well the investigation was going, and Vic did not have the answers he wanted. Neither of them were happy about the situation. Her headache was back with a vengeance and Ruby waited with an ever increasing stack of things to be attended to. Vic honestly had no idea how Walt managed to keep on top of everything.

She sighed and went in the main office, needing coffee, even the sludge in the bottom of the coffee pot would do. Huey or Duey sat at her old desk, talking earnestly into the phone, and Leon sat at the desk opposite, several large evidence boxes with the lids open were scattered on the floor next to his desk and he rose suddenly as she walked into the room.

Thrown at the unexpected courtesy she paused and nodded before heading to the coffee machine, and pouring a full mug from the pleasantly full jug, adding necessary cream and sugar and then nearly choked on her first mouthful. It was not only NOT AWFUL, it was damn near PRETTY GOOD as far as coffee went. Suddenly her day was looking better, and she smiled at Leon over her cup as he walked towards her, a cellphone in a clear plastic evidence bag in his hand.

"Whats up Deputy?"

The coffee was hot so she tried to not guzzle it too fast and with a sigh put the cup down and took the phone that Leon handed to her

"Sheriff this is Deputy Connolly's phone, it was in his personal effects. It had gone flat so I charged it but it has a security code and I haven't been able to figure it out"

Pausing for thought for a moment Vic typed in a four digit number code, and frowned when it didn't work. Turning to Ruby she asked

"Ruby what is Cady's birthday?"

"31st March Sheriff"

Vic typed in 3103 and the phone unlocked. She handed it back to Leon with a quiet "Cady is Walt's daughter. Long story, don't ask right now."

Clearly curious he nodded and took the phone to analyse, Vic collected her coffee cup and postits and headed for her office. Perhaps the day would improve further?

* * *

 **Apologies dearest readers for seemingly abandoning you. While I was studying for my exam, many other things got put on hold and I have spent the last few weeks catching up on them. Annoyingly I also got sick recently and have been battling an ant infestation in my house - neither of which are helpful for providing creative writing time and space.**

 **I promised I will finish the story so I sat down tonite and slogged out the next chapter - I hope you enjoy!**

 **Oh and my iPod also died so no musical inspirations at the moment either :(**


	16. Chapter 16

The early morning sun slanted sideways through the wooden blinds and cast dappled shadows across the piled paperwork Vic had scattered across the desk . Feeling like she was always losing the war against the paper, she had come in extra early this morning. The meds were helping some, while there were ongoing headaches, they weren't as bad, and a solid breakfast had laid the foundation for a day started slogging at her desk.

Still, it was draining and timeconsuming and she had no idea how Walt had managed to fit it into his day, given his days were so often spent out on calls, driving the endless roads of the high plains in all weather.

Her coffee was mostly empty and cold, but she was uninspired to get up and make more, whoever was the coffee fairy wasn't here and she couldn't quite face the sludge left in the bottom of the pot. It was early for the Bee to be open so her coffee free state was to continue indefinitely. Vic sighed and shuffled some more paper around after signing in the appropriate places. She had to do that a lot as Sheriff and wasn't always entirely certain quite what it was she was authorising on some pages.

Any ideas she might have had about being promoted to Sheriff were long gone now, far better to be a grunt, out in the field, enjoying the highs and lows of real police work with the occasional bonus of rounding up stray livestock or other critters. Wyoming had more than its fair share of crazy but it kept her entertained and you couldn't put a price on that.

A light tapping at the office door caught her attention, and she smiled at Ruby's familiar face peering round the door frame

"Need me for something Ruby?"

Ruby padded quietly in on her crepe soled shoes and looked down at all the piled up papers on the desk before asking

"How long are you going to keep trying to do everything Vic?" her voice was concerned, and also slightly critical in her maternal way. Vic sat up straight for a moment in surprise then narrowed her eyes in suspicion

"I knew it! I knew he couldn't manage to do all this and sleep as well!" she paused for a moment "Why did you let me try?"

Ruby smiled sadly at her as she walked round to Vics side of the desk and patted her gently on the shoulder with one hand

"You were so determined to do the best job, you wanted to see everything and be in control of everything to make sure it was right and proper. Eventually I thought you would figure it out and ask me to help. Now lets see what you have here….. yes I can take care of this, and that, and those over there. " Between them, the piles were redistributed with Ruby taking away a very large proportion of the total amount.

Before she left the office she turned and said quietly

"You ARE doing an excellent job Vic, its hard for all of us without Walt here, but its so much harder for you. Let us help Vic, where we can" and she hefted her armload of papers meaningfully and nodded firmly.

"Thankyou Ruby, that means a lot, and I need all the help I can get."

Her smile felt like the first real smile she had had in days if not weeks and it was good to see a smile from Ruby in return. It made her realise how isolated she had become, and Vic rose with renewed energy, time to walk down to the Bee and have a proper conversation and some good coffee and maybe a random conversation with a local. And bring back a sweet treat for Ruby, she would like that.

* * *

 **A short but hopefully sweet update for my lovely readers, I haven't forgotten you. Its been so cold here lately, had snow falling but not settling on the ground over the weekend. Good news is the cold weather seems to be keeping the ants away so thats helping. Hoping for another couple of updates this week to get a big chunk of story out of the way - stay tuned!**


	17. Chapter 17

There was high excitement and energy in the office when she returned from the Bee, full of pancakes, good coffee, gossip and a Danish in a crisp paper bag for Ruby. It sounded like everyone was talking at once, so they didn't hear her come in the side door. Vic had to yell for their attention

"HEY!"

Everybody was gathered around Ferg's computer, bunched up shoulder to shoulder. They turned to face her and after a startled pause all started talking AT her just as loudly. She handed her parcel to Ruby with a small smile and held up both hands

"HEY! Hey! One at a time, like in kindergarten" pointing at Ferg who was literally bouncing with excitement

"Tell me, SLOWLY what is going on" but Ferg shook his head and stepped back behind Leon and gave him an unsubtle push forward and hissed "you found it" loud enough for the room to hear. Vic rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, resisting the urge to tap her toe, the energy in the room was infecting her too

"Did someone run over a chicken again?"

Leon's voice was quiet and intense "Sheriff, you need to hear this," Ferg bustled to the computer, clicking with the mouse and suddenly a slightly hollow sound came through the speakers, and then two familiar voices started talking. Branch and Barlow were a distance away from the phone, but both voices were clear and distinguishable, as well as what they were saying. It was inconsequential chit chat interspersed with a PULL! then a loud BANG as a shotgun went off. Vic remembered they had been clay shooting and was about to interrupt and ask what was so exciting when Branch said

"Last year I discovered Big Pines was one of Jacob Nighthorse's shell corporations. He owns it."

The room was silent as the conversation played out in its sad and sordid way, they all knew the conclusion and yet everyone jumped when the final gunshot rang out. There was a long pause and then Barlow called in the shooting and halfway through that the recording stopped.

Shaken, Vic looked at her assembled team, rocked by the implications of what she had just heard, Barlow's confession recorded, Nighthorse's potential innocence of Martha's murder and finally a conclusion to the hell they were all living.

She surveyed the eager faces awaiting her next move and mentally steeled herself, they were so very close to bringing this one home, but it had to be perfectly executed.

"Ferg, I want copies of that recording put into evidence, I want one transported to Gillete for their evidence and one locked in the safe in the Mayor's Office.

Ruby I need you to call Rawlings and get Barlow into maximum security isolation and I need a judge to hear this immediately, find me the closest one please.

Huey and Duey, man the desk and handle the calls, you guys are flying solo today for a bit.

Leon you are with me.." Vic paused for a long moment but still holding eye contact

"This might be the break we need to close this case and find justice for both Martha and Branch, there are two murders we are solving here and a lot riding on this. So no cut corners, everything is by the book, we want everything to be squeaky clean when the lawyers get their sticky fingers on this, are we clear?"

A murmur of Yes Ma'ams and the team dispersed to their individual tasks, Ruby already on the phone, Ferg turning to his computer and Leon waiting for her next instruction

"Leon grab your kit and meet me at my truck, I just need to make a call."

After all this time she knew the number by heart now, and dialled it from the phone on her desk and Henry's familiar cultured tones echoed down the line

"It is a beautiful day at the Red Pony and Continual Soiree!"

"Henry it's Vic"

"Sheriff, what can I do for you this lovely day?"

"I need to warn you, we may have solved the case and have enough evidence for a conviction"

There was a long silence and Henry sounded very thoughtful

"It's an ongoing investigation so you can't share details but you want me to know so that I can make sure a certain person of interest doesn't interfere or cause further trouble for either the Department or himself?"

She breathed a sigh of relief, Henry's mind reading skills obviously extended beyond Walt when required "Yes and if you could find some way to let Lucian know as well I would appreciate it, I'm going to be a bit busy here for a bit."

"Always a pleasure to assist Absaroka Counties finest, Sheriff Moretti, I am on my way"

"Thankyou Henry, that makes me feel a lot better."

His voice softened as he said quietly "I know Vic, I know."

Leon was sensibly waiting in the shade of the trees near her truck, his two large grey toolboxes at his feet and he was scrolling through something on his phone as she walked with quick strides across the street. He tucked the phone in a pocket, stooped to pickup the boxes and met her at the truck, and stowed them in the back seat. She waited til he was settled before pulling out, and flicked on the sirens and lights and sent them barrelling out of town at high speed, heads turning at the noise and cars randomly pulling over to avoid them.

She waited, concentrating on her driving and avoiding the traffic and eventually the question came

"Sheriff where are we going and why such a hurry?"

He had almost waited too long, and she switched off the lights and noise, pulling into the long curving driveway that lead up to Branch's rather elegant and palatial house. Elegant in that western way with lots of exposed beams, stone fireplaces and dead animals on the walls, palatial in that no one on a Deputy salary could ever have afforded it.

She had taken time to grab a key from Ruby, everyone had stashed spares at the office for emergencies, and no one had thought to remove Branch's from the stash. It certainly WAS an emergency now and Vic's hand shook slightly as she fitted the key into the lock and opened the door. Because the crime scene was elsewhere, and they had a fairly likely candidate for the crime, no one had considered examining here for evidence, apparently that had been a mistake.

Finally Vic turned to Leon and answered "Branch made a reference to a video, I haven't seen this video and I really really want to right now. No one has been here since he ….died… so I assume they were here."

* * *

 **Its not my fault this time, I wrote this DAYS ago but have been unable to log in to upload it, kept getting error messages.**


	18. Chapter 18

_They had recovered the surveillance videos Branch had some how recorded. Given the complexities of the case, with possible Native American involvement, value of the transaction and the fact it crossed state lines, the FBI had become involved. Everything had taken a lot longer but the data had been analysed and verified so that a judge had deemed the recorded confession sufficient evidence (it was not obtained under duress) and so finally Barlow Connolly had been convicted of both Martha Longmire's murder and that of his son Branch._

 _Vic took some comfort in the fact that he would probably die in jail before any chance of release would happen based on the premeditated extent of the crimes. It had finally been enough to bring Walt out of his drunken wallowing and after a medical and an obviously tense closed door meeting with the Absaroka County Mayor and Sheriff Campbell, he had been cleared to return to work, pending further investigation._

 _The headaches had gotten worse so Vic had taken the last week off, mostly to sleep, and to pack for her return to Philadelphia, she had handed in her temporary notice to Ruby, along with a personal letter to Walt, as they had not seen each other in the intervening weeks. She had worked hard to ensure that was the case, it wasn't running away, her health was suffering and by fucking god she needed a holiday, and well deserved one by now, no one would dispute that._

Packing sucked when you didn't know how long you were going away for and what you might need, she was completely over the whole thing. Half her clothes were strewn through the house, testament to her confusion and indecision. Of course the ever present pounding head ache did not help the situation, it was too hard to concentrate when her right eyeball felt like it was going to explode in its socket.

Vic looked at the clock on the stereo, only 3 hours till her plane left, and her suitcase had only underwear and socks in it so she swore viciously, gathered up her jeans and favourite tshirts and sweaters and bundled them in untidily, swearing a constant stream of irritation under her breath. After making certain the suitcase would reluctantly close, she gathered up armfuls of the clothes scattered about the house, dumping them all the bed, they could wait til she got back and felt better to be put away. Or packed up and sent elsewhere, who could say at this point?

She was idly singing along with the stereo when a heavy knock at the door interrupted her, and she blew the wispy strands of blond hair that had come loose from her pony tail away from her face as she opened the door. Walt was standing there, holding his hat in his hands, nervously circling it around, and his expression was flat and unhappy, so much so, she stepped back instinctively. He must have taken it for invitation and walked in, smoky blue eyes taking in the suitcase, the shoes scattered on the couch that she hadn't tidied up yet.

Closing the door, wondering what the hell was happening, Vic walked past Walt, unzipped her suitcase and began tidily folding up the clothes and stacking in neat piles. It was a barrier between them, an obvious message and hopefully he wouldn't notice how much her hands were trembling. Neither had spoken a word as yet and the silence built heavily, as she quietly folded and stacked, her eyes on what her hands were doing.

"Vic…"

She jumped just a little, she had forgotten just how deep and gravelly his voice was when he was being serious, and apparently it was a serious conversation. She carried on folding and stacking, but slowed down as she was running out of clothes, and right now didn't want to be waving her lace bra or panties in front of this man so instead she sighed, putting both hands on the table, head down in resistance

"What Walt, what could you possibly want to talk about now?"

She could see him out of the corner of one eye and his weight shifted forward a bit as if he was about to move towards her, and then stopped so she stood upright, and faced him, arms crossed and hip slung out in the obvious indications of temper to those who knew her well. But what he said next surprised her

"I came to apologise and thankyou. Before you left."

She didn't have a response to this, being so surprised so nodded jerkily

"You were right with what you did, with me….. and you handled the case really well, and the department and everything. Sheriff Campbell says you have a job with him anytime you want one, apparently."

Well at least she had one option, but the whole point of this exercise was to get AWAY from Wyoming and all the bad memories she had built up in such a short period of time, so she nodded again, still not speaking. Walt was clearly beginning to feel the strain, and kept talking, hesitantly

"I'm sorry Vic, I let you down, I let everyone down right when I should have held it together" his voice shook and he looked away and continued quietly "I need help Vic, that has been made very clear to me and this time I am going to get it" he looked up at her and his eyes were the colour of thunderclouds "Thanks to you, now my ghosts are laid to rest, I might be able to move on."

Her anger boiled hot and fast, as it did so often these days, and she nearly spat her words at him

"Well I'm SO FUCKING PLEASED that you can move on with your life Sheriff Longmire! Now would you mind doing it elsewhere as I have a plane to catch soon and a neurosurgeon to see tomorrow." She was gratified to see a flinch as her barb cut deep into his composure

"It was nice of you to man up and thank me for cleaning up your mess, though it would have been nicer if you could have manned up and done your job instead of hiding away in a bottle feeling fucking sorry for yourself and leaving me to do it! Fuck off Longmire and leave me the hell alone!"

He was shocked at her words, she could see it, and felt a small warmth of satisfaction at finally letting loose and saying the words she had been hoarding in anger and frustration for so long but he stepped forward, with one hand out

"Vic"

"No!" she stepped sideways, away from him and into the open space of the lounge, instinctively giving herself room to manoeuvre

"No, you apologised, and I hope it made you feel better. Didn't make me feel anything at all actually except annoyed you are still in my house when I don't want you here. Why don't you just leave!"

"I heard you were leaving town, and Ruby said you had taken extended sick leave but you didn't give a date when you were coming back. I wanted to make sure you were coming back Vic. I….. we need you here in Durant, Vic."

She was shaking with the need to scream her frustration and despair and hurt and pain at him, to blame him for everything that was wrong in her life because right now it seemed like one way or another he was and she damn near yelled her next words at him

"Why the fuck would I come back to this shit hole Walt, its caused me nothing but trouble, broken up my marriage, got me shot, stabbed and beaten up and best of all given me a ringside seat to watch you throw all your honour and integrity out the door when you found out who killed Martha. It was the great love story, the melodrama and mystery and now its all come to an end. What will you do now, now that the great burning love of your life is finally revenged, what is the passion that will drive you now Walt, that will get you out of bed everyday and stop you from drowning your sorrows in beer every night?"

There was a shocked silence as the import of what she had just said echoed and they stared at each other for a long moment until Walt stepped forward until they were close enough to touch, and stared down into her suddenly wide open eyes and he murmured

"I was hoping Vic, that it might be you" and he kissed her, one rough hand cradling the back of her head while he stepped forward til their bodies touched.

For one glorious moment she kissed him back, hungrily, angrily, it didn't matter so long as she was kissing him.

Then a hard impact in his gut stole his breath, and he realised Vic had punched him, they were too close for it to hurt but he stepped out of reach of a second punch while he battled to suck air into his lungs.

She was so angry now she could literally feel the blood pulsing through the veins in her temples, pounding out her heartbeat or headache, she couldn't tell the difference anymore, and she hissed at him

"You fucking bastard, you pull the strong silent type, being distant and emotionally unavailable and then turn up bringing the charm and the seduction. Your marriage must have been delightful for Martha, you were probably working so much you were never home, and probably not even really there when you were home. It wouldn't surprise me if she found some comfort elsewhere, is Cady even yours? She looks a lot like her mother, but not much like you"

 _Oh that was an old old pain but from this woman it still had the power to hurt. Of course hearing the truth even from someone you care about still hurts too and she wasn't wrong about some things though she was about Cady. Apparently he might have been wrong about Vic and their relationship tho, this was not quite the reception he had expected and was severely off balance._

He retrieved his hat, clamping it down tight as if preparing for a storm, and stepped to the doorway before saying

"Vic I *am* sorry, for everything. Take as long as you need in Philly, and please let Ruby know how you are doing, you know how she worries. I will hold your job open for you if you want to come back, and I hope you do."

As he walked through the door her last bitter words followed him out to the truck

"Fuck off Longmire, before I shoot you myself and put us all out of our misery"

 _No one would ever see or hear how she sank onto the sofa, buried her face in the plush cushions and howled out her tears, despair and frustrations. Frustrated at how it had all gone wrong, and how suddenly when it was too late, it had gone right._

 _Walt had parked the truck on the other side of the airport, behind a copse of trees, and stood watching from a distance as the short line of people boarded the plane for Philadelphia. He waited while the baggage was loaded, and the engines were started up and it taxied slowly past him before making the final turn and wait, and then the engines screamed as the plane powered down the runway and into the air. He kept waiting til he could no longer see or hear anything, until she was truly gone and then where no one could see or hear him, he broke down and cried, hard angry tears at himself for making all the same old mistake again._

At the end of the day, tired and heartworn, he had taken refuge in his usual seat at the Red Pony, but limiting himself to only the one Rainier he explained to Henry how his visit to Vic had gone, although he may have left out some key moments that were too raw to be shared.

Henry's dark eyes were deep and knowing, and Walt suspected he guessed there was more to the story than spoken. When Henry finally spoke he asked a question Walt wasn't expecting

"And you let her go?"

Walt's reply was resigned

"I had no choice, she had to go. To see the specialist Doc organised, to spend time with her family, to take a break." His voice was quiet as he continued "She has had a rough time."

Henry's voice was also quiet, as he repeated his sentence but this time it was a statement, not a question and he nodded as he spoke

"And you let her go."

* * *

 **Delicious Readers! Patient Readers! Its been a long and rough journey but we are now at the end of that timeframe of story - its not QUITE finished but now you know how we got to the beginning (kinda)  
**

 **Thankyou for your patience, your encouragement, your checking in to make sure I was still alive when RL got a little intrusive - I hope you have enjoyed my different take on this relationship, one or maybe two more chapters will wind it up and then of course we have the delightful S4 to inspire us all over again!**


	19. Chapter 19

The trip into Durant and the Sheriffs Office had not gone well. Vic was rude and abrasive, until even she was affected by the heavy uncomfortable silence that filled the room. Ruby was nearly in tears as they left, clutching at Walt's arm, her eyes begging to know what was wrong with Vic.

Vic was sullen and withdrawn on the way home, Walt was uncertain if this was her default state now, or if she realised how badly her behaviour had been, and was retreating like a teenager.

He called Lena and suggested that whatever reason behind this visit, it was unlikely to achieve anything positive, the weather forecast was clear for the next couple of days before the next storm was due, and perhaps it was time for Vic to return home.

Vic appeared resigned whether she stayed or went, but her continuing sullen silence meant she wasn't complaining, which was a blessing, and she boarded the plane with only the barest of thanks for his time in dropping her off, and stalked off, radiating her dissatisfaction to the world with every movement.

He waited til the plane was safely on its way and sighed, before heading back up to the big house. There were horses waiting to be exercised and fed. For the second time he let Vic go out of his life, and this time, surely, there was no coming back.

VIC

The flight had been bouncy with turbulence so they had not served the drinks trolley, yet another annoyance in her day. Eventually the affect of the meds made her sleepy and she dozed through most of the flight home, rousing at the bump and screech of the wheels as the plane braked heavily on landing.

Navigating the afternoon crowds did nothing for her temper, and Vic was feeling quite put upon when she finally hauled herself into the back of a taxi, and directed him to her mothers address. She really would have to do something about finding her own place, and get her life back on track again.

The familiar philly twang cut into her musings

"Thats a fancy snow parka you got on there lady, you been skiing or something?"

Shit, she had put on the parka when leaving the lodge, and completely forgotten about it. While the weather was clear, it was still freezing and Walt had handed it to her in the foyer before they left the building. It was a lot wetter but still damn cold in Philly but she hadn't registered it due to the jackets quality of protection. She shrugged, wasn't like Omar couldn't afford it.

The eyes of the driver reflected in the RV mirror, clearly he was a chatty one, and expected a response

"I've been in Wyoming...visiting...friends. Forgot to take this off at the airport"

The driver slapped a hand against the steering wheel

"You shitting me girl! People actually GO to Wyoming?"

Taken aback, she laughed and replied

"Yeah I know, I actually worked there for a while, god the stories I could tell you about the crazies! And the winters..."

She shuddered, wrapping the parka around her dramatically

"Girl, can't be worse than this, surely" he said, waving a hand at the dirty snow piled up in heaps beside the highway, and falling sluggishly on the windscreen

Vic smiled, suddenly she had an audience for all the vitriol she could pour out on the subject of Wyoming, and she let loose with a vengeance and soon her stories of chasing down chickens and moving stock off the roads had the driver hooting with laughter.

It felt good to finally let loose and not be judged for her thoughts or opinions.

She started to say "And the weather! God its FUCKING AWFUL..." when something odd happened. Between one word and the next it was like something in her brain switched on and all the memories she was missing came flooding back.

All the things she had forgotten, all the people she cared about all suddenly appeared in full bright colour in her brain, and the feeling was so startling she was silent for several minutes, not even registering where she was until the driver said

"Miss, are you OK?"

Confused as to what was happening to her she stuttered "Umm sure, sorry I had an accident a while ago, and I'm not quite right yet, sorry do you mind if I just sit here quietly, I have a bit of a headache?"

He studied her a moment longer before saying "Sure" and turned the music down and they travelled on to their destination.

Vic closed her eyes and tried to absorb what her brain had done, and put the pieces of memories back into order. As she was doing that she began to see how her personality over the last few months had been very different, how it had not been the *real* her. How badly she had behaved and treated her family, her mother who had cared so diligently for her.

By now they had arrived, Vic paid the driver and hauled her bag out onto the sidewalk, waiting for the taxi to pull away before she sank down on the steps, almost hyperventilating as she recalled her behaviour.

After a few minutes she heard the door open behind her, and her mother's voice

"Vic honey, are you OK? Why are you sitting on the steps outside?"

Vic was paralysed, tears streaming down her face, hugging the snow parka to herself in comfort, shaking her head and murmuring wordlessly.

Concerned, her mother rushed down the steps to hug her daughter, stroking her hair, whispering soothing words. Eventually she managed to get Vic up and inside, still inconsolable and put her to bed with some sleeping tablets.

The next day she wasn't much better so the specialist and therapist were 'requested' to make non standard house calls to the Police Commissioner's daughter. Neither could find anything obviously wrong but the specialist commented before leaving

"Sometimes we see a return of memories with head trauma victims. We call it a 'cascade' when everything dumps on them at once and it can be rather disturbing when this happens and trigger an emotional response"

She shrugged "Either way, this is the first time I have seen Vic cry since the trauma event, I'm hoping this is a positive step forward one way or another. Just give her some time"

A couple of days went by with not a lot of improvement. Lena decided that she had had enough and went into Vic's room after she heard the shower running. Giving her daughter enough time to get dressed, she knocked on the door

"Vic honey, I'm coming in." Hearing nothing she cautiously opened the door to find her daughter slumped on the bed, wet hair tangled damply across the pillow. The curtains and windows were shut and the room smelt stale, so she opened those first, bundling up the wet towel and discarded clothes into the washing basket, resisting the urge to tut to her grown up daughter about her messy habits.

Instead she sat on the bed, laid a cool hand on Vics outstretched on nearby and said quietly

"Whatever it is, you can tell me. You can't keep whatever is upsetting you bottled up like this. Did something happen in Wyoming?"

She was surprised that startled a reluctant laugh out of the emotional wreck lying on the bed, and even moreso when Vic pushed herself up to a sitting position against the pillows clustered in the far corner of the bed, hugging one in front of her for comfort or protection, Lena wasn't sure.

Vic's voice was hesitant "Mom, I'm not sure how to explain this, but you know how I've been a right bitch the last few months?" Without realising it Lena nodded

"Well something happened on the taxi ride from the airport..." Vic hesitantly explained as best she could what had happened, crying apologetically for the hell she now realised she had put everyone through.

Lena hugged her daughter, and breathed a prayer of thanks, somehow whatever had been broken was fixed and the Vic she knew appeared to be mostly back. The Vic she had been showed not even the slightest understanding of what remorse was.

The specialist was called again, an appointment was made for the following week, to allow things to settle and calm down. The confession and apology seemed to have helped somewhat and the specialist was smiling at the end of the assessment. There was still an period of adjustment and healing to complete, but it seemed likely a full recovery could be made. Possibly even a chance she might resume desk work on the force, the damage to her vision meant it was unlikely she would pass the physicals to patrol again. Her ability to shoot would be forever impaired.

Vic seemed to come to terms with her physical limitations, unlike her previous behaviour she took to physical therapy readily, working hard, pushing herself to improve. However as the months went by, something still seemed to be not quite right but any attempt to discuss it was completely shut down.

Lena hadn't spoken to Walt since he called to organise Vic's return trip, the breakdown and resulting events had totally consumed her thoughts, and she was embarrassed not to have contacted him. When she realised he hadn't contacted her either she began to wonder what had happened in Wyoming.

"Walt, its Lena, is now a good time? Because I need to talk to you about Vic, there has been a big change in her situation and I thought you would want to know"

* * *

 **Dearest readers, thankyou for sticking with me for so long, thankyou to all the readers who politely sent me PM asking if I was ever going to finish this story. Unfortunately I put my muse aside when I had to study for my exam, and well, she got in a huff and abandoned me. Then a surgery that I had long been wanting to get sorted finally got some action and I had the operation a couple of weeks ago. Now Im stuck at home for several weeks recovering (its all good, corrective and nothing to worry about).**

 **I wanted to write more about Vic's time in Durant but really this was the ending that I always had in my head - to give you some explanation, I had a horse riding accident when I was 11 and had brain surgery, and was in hospital for several weeks. During that time I was apparently a real bitch, so much so my sister refused to come visit me.**

 **The weird thing was in the middle of a conversation with an orderly, my brain just switched on - I had no idea who he was or what we were talking about and no memory of the previous weeks at all. It was an extremely odd situation, especially as a child and I still remember it clearly some 30 years later. So I used that experience to base the behaviour of Vic in this story on.**

 **Thankyou for all the likes and comments and feedback, and your patience while I struggled with this story. My muse is currently still playing hard to get but she left me with the seed for maybe one more story, I will see if there is anything in it.**

 **Bring on Season 5!**


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